


Golden Echoes

by Rayvee



Series: Golden Memories [1]
Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: But if it might hurt you be careful, FNAF 3 - Freeform, Fazbear's Fright, Fredbear is mentioned, Fredbear mention, Fredbear never makes an appearance but he is mentioned SO MANY TIMES, Gen, He gets better, Help I've never posted on AO3 before, I don't half the time., I don't think it's too graphic?, I guess., I have 'separate the rabbit from the child murdering serial killer' syndrome, I mean, If a bit tricky, It's great., JJ appreciation, JJ is plot relevant, Mild limb removal, Oh and the phantoms are kinda here, Shadow freddy and RXQ are also here., Spring's gay but his boyfriend hasn't been seen in like forty years so it's not really relevant, Springtrap isn't the killer, They're bastards., They're fun to write., but he never actually shows up - Freeform, crossposted from Wattpad, frequent mentions of blood, technicality, the horror attraction, who even remembers them?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:21:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 36
Words: 37,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26299324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rayvee/pseuds/Rayvee
Summary: After thirty years alone, the newly renamed Springtrap has finally been released from his personal hell. And while a horror attraction isn't ideal, he's content to be out of the Safe Room. But when the Classic animatronics, as well as the Puppet, are found and brought to the attraction, Springtrap quickly learns that, while he may be able to let go of the past, others can't. And despite his peaceful nature and considerable eloquence, his heavily damaged voicebox has rendered him mute.Between dodging angry animatronics, bittersweet memories being dredged up from long ago, and Shadow Freddy's own agender for the old rabbit, Springtrap finds solace in his unlikely friendship with JJ, the frequently overlooked animatronic, and with Sam, the clumsy night guard.Just because the Man Behind the Slaughter is dead, torn from any body he could potentially inhabit, and rotting in hell, doesn't mean that everything is fine.After all, bloodstains linger for a long time.And the kids aren't going to fly free by themselves.(Also on Wattpad)
Relationships: Animatronics & Springtrap (Five Nights at Freddy's), No Romantic Relationship(s), Springtrap & JJ
Series: Golden Memories [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1977913
Comments: 151
Kudos: 126





	1. Prologue: Lost

Darkness, pierced by the faint glow of sunlight through the holes in the ceiling. The sound of dripping water, pooling in the centre of the room. A rat, scuttling across the floor. Searching for food, perhaps? It wouldn't find it here. Anything edible found in the room was long gone, taken by time and the rats before it.  
An animatronic, as forgotten as the small room it was sealed in, lay in the darkness.

It had once been Bonnie, Fredbear's beloved partner, who could dance and sing and play guitar, who could walk on her own or be worn by a human. She had been with her one-and-only, who had cared for her even when _she_ had become a _he._ The lost rabbit ached for the twenty years they had had together.

He had once been Spring Bonnie, an old yellow suit, left in the rooms erased from the internal maps of the younger animatronics. He had seen pizzerias rise and fall and rise again, animatronics built and terminated, but had been left mute and motionless, listening to the faint sounds of children laughing and playing, the songs that he had never sung but had become familiar to him, longing for companionship, for things to be as they were. But the only companions he had were the mice that had scuttled through the Safe Rooms, the humans who had so quickly forgotten he had once walked freely, and the animatronics who were free to move around outside, unaware of his presence. 

It didn't think of itself as Spring Bonnie anymore. It was an entity, a forgotten robot in a forgotten room, sealed in the walls of a place crumbling down around it.  
Humans forgot things so easily. The lost animatronic envied them.

The animatronic lay there, in the dark and the damp, barely conscious. How long had it been there? Its internal clock had stopped a long time ago. Decades, probably. It didn't know. It didn't care. Its eyelids were in the half-open position they had been trapped in for so long, and behind them, there was no indication of the life that had danced in its eyes, so long ago.

Computers weren't supposed to dream, but they could replay old files. And the old AI did just that, clinging desperately to the _good_ it had lost, refusing to touch the _bad_ , in the hopes that it would keep it sane.

It had seen what had happened when someone lost their mind.


	2. Prologue: Found

There were humans in the building.  
The animatronic drifted slowly into awareness. Humans did enter the building every now and then, usually Teenagers. The old rabbit's hearing wasn't what it once was, but it was still better than a human's. And the walls were so very thin.   
Not thin enough to beak, though.

These humans didn't seem to be Teenagers. They moved with a purpose, and stopped on the other side of the wall where the door had once been and still was, sealed away. The broken animatronic's ears trained on their voices, and listened as they talked about attractions and artefacts and the possibility of 'finding a real one'. And then one of them spoke, and the robot who was no longer Spring Bonnie felt a glimmer of hope for the first time since its world had been reduced to a single room. They had heard of the Safe Room. They were going to open it up.

_Play dead._

It remembered a time of life and colour, were it danced and played and sang, when children flocked around him and fed off its happiness and energy and gave him their own. Would it ever experience that again? The more mechanical, analytical side of him doubted it. Perhaps it would be repaired and restored. Perhaps it would be left in storage to rot. Perhaps it would be disassembled and used for parts-though its parts were probably in such poor condition that they would be useless. Perhaps it would be dumped in an incinerator and terminated. It didn't care anymore. Anything was better than the Safe Room.  
 _Play dead._  
It was a miracle it was still functional.

There were humans in the Safe Room.  
There were three of them, all male. The nameless rabbit had never seen Adult humans so excited before. The Adults it had once interacted with were usually either tired parents or busy staff. Or they were Dads, who were strange and inscrutable and entertaining to everyone who weren't their children. Over the decades of reflection it'd had, the bunny still hadn't figured those ones out. But even Dads didn't get this excited. Especially not about a decades-old animatronic found in a sealed room hidden in the walls of a decaying pizzeria.   
Humans were strange creatures. 

_Play dead._

The humans immediately started work on moving the newly uncovered animatronic out of the pizzeria. The robotic rabbit had some memories of the Dining Area as it had been- bright and colourful, full of neatly arranged tables and chairs, Children running around and playing and drawing, Adults half-watching their kids, talking with other Adults. Freddy and Bonnie and Chica on the Stage, singing, making music, bringing back memories that made the constant ache of loneliness stronger. 

_Play dead._

Now the black-and-white tiles were cracked and broken, covered in dust and trash and bits of what seemed to be transparent balloons. What few tables remained had collapsed under their own weight, and not a single chair was still in one piece. The Main Stage had decayed, and there was a massive hole where the wood had rotted away. The colourful trio who had once stood there proudly were gone. What had happened to them? They certainly hadn't been stolen. Had they been sold, scrapped or taken by the people who were now taking him? Would it meet them when they arrived at their destination? It wasn't sure how to feel about that.  
It would be nice to not feel so alone, at least.

_Play dead._

They were outside now. The lost rabbit felt tarmac under its feet and dragging legs, saw the glass doors. Only one of the doors was still on its hinges, the glass shattered and in scattered pieces on the tiles and overgrown path. Only a few letters remained on the sign- an F, a B, a Z. What seemed to be the remains of an A was lying on the grass. The paint was faded and flaking off, and there were patches where it was gone completely. The animatronic had always viewed it as a prison and not a home, but it still felt a pang as it saw the state of the building. 

_Play dead._

After being loaded into a van parked on the road, the animatronic was left there, propped up against a Chica's Party arcade cabinet as the humans went back to empty the Safe Room of anything else interesting. It shifted slightly into a more comfortable position. Was it going to be sold? Auctioned off to some collector? Along with whatever else the trio of humans coughed up? But why now? It had been years, perhaps decades. And if so, why would they be collecting children's drawings? As much as they meant to the rabbit, it doubted they'd be worth anything monetarily.  
The humans were coming back, wrestling one last arcade cabinet into the van. It would find out soon enough, it supposed. And a collector would probably restore it, at least.

_Play dead._


	3. Prologue: Name

_Play dead._

The animatronic had travelled in the back of the van. The humans had taken it to this new place, with poor lighting, masks and drawings on the walls, and pieces of exoskeletons and suits lying on the tiles. The hall was cluttered, an organised mess. The animatronic had many questions it would never ask those humans, and it would have had more if it hadn't seen the sign as they bought it in. _Fazbear's Fright: The Horror Attraction._

_Play dead._

Part of the animatronic wanted to get up and shake them and demand what exactly were they thinking, didn't they know that real people actually died? That actual children were murdered? That other animatronics had slaughtered every Night Guard they could get their hands on? But it didn't. Partially because movement was difficult and it probably wasn't nimble enough anymore, partially because it was also committed to playing dead, partially because if they thought it was dangerous they would probably have it terminated.  
It wasn't ready to die just yet.

_Play dead._

The humans had decided it was male, and were discussing what to call it. _You don't understand,_ it wanted to say. _I don't have a name, don't have a gender. I'm not anyone. Not anymore._ But even if it did, they wouldn't get it. So it stayed silent. Stayed still.

_Play dead._

They had decided to call it Springtrap. The rabbit toyed with the name for a while. It found it didn't mind it so much. It fit, at least. 

_Play dead._

The humans were moving away. One of them had said it was late. Was it? it had seemed to be noon when they'd taken it from the Safe Room...  
Taken it from the Safe Room.

_Play dead._

That was the thing, wasn't it? They had freed it from the darkness and decay. From its personal prison. And as stupid and insensitive as the horror attraction was, at least they acknowledged the past, instead of sweeping it under the rug. And what did they want of it? 

_Play dead._

They just wanted an animatronic, to wander the halls and scare those who came through it. Nobody would be hurt. Those who entered wanted to be scared. That was the role it would be playing.

_Play dead. Play dead. Play dead._

Old, brittle bones grinded. Rusted metal sounded against the tiled floor. Colourless eyes softly glowed silver.  
It would play its role. It would wander the halls, scare the humans who entered, watch and listen and learn. It- _he-_ would never harm a human, but the humans didn't know that. He would remain mute, a silent character, unless his voice was needed, not to scare but to help.  
He would be Springtrap, the animatronic of Fazbear's Fright.

_Play dead._

The animatronic took his first steps in decades.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings! Welcome to _Golden Echoes,_ alternatively known as _I do horrible things to a Springtrap who really doesn't deserve it._ This version of Spring (and the other animatronics) are their own thing; they aren't the souls of murdered children/serial killers. Because sentient AI from the _1960's_ (yes, that's how old this Springo is, because Scott Cawthon never said how old Fredbear's Family Diner was, so I can make it as old as I want. Therefore it was founded in 1963, and ran for twenty years, though if cannon is any indication the actual thing probably lasted about a month (yes this is a long parenthesis, deal.).) makes _so_ much more sense. Of course, just because Springtrap isn't Afton, doesn't mean people know that, which is gonna cause him some problems in future, especially when he meets people who immediately try to tear him to shreds. Which is probably going to happen in the next three chapters. Someone give this poor boy a hug. Or rather, don't, because if you get Tetanus, he would feel even worse. Poor boyo's had a rough time. And it's gonna get worse before it gets better.
> 
> This is my first time posting on AO3- I'm used to Wattpad. (which, uh, this fic is also on. My username there is RayveeOfTheSilkWings, if you prefer Wattpad's format over AO3). It feels a bit odd doing the em and /em thing for italics, but I'll get used to it, I guess.
> 
> And yes, this fic started with a three-part prologue. Because why not.


	4. Returned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Bonnie encounters a very strange rabbit and immediately jumps to conclusions.

Fazbear's Fright was dark, grimy, creepy and cluttered. Bonnie hated it. The place had apparently been open for about three months, although how was anyone's guess. The six of them- himself, Freddy, Chica, Foxy, the Puppet, and _Balloon Girl,_ of all animatronics- had been bought by some old collector. It hadn't been particularly enjoyable- being stuck in an overglorified glass box for three decades should not be _anyone's_ idea of a fun time- but at least Foxy had been properly repaired. Though frankly their condition in '87 was still infinitely better than the condition of the building they were in.

It wasn't like he was surprised- whoever thought it was a good idea to create a _horror attraction_ out of the _actual murders_ of _actual children_ needed to have their heads readjusted. _Forcefully._ With a _mask_ full of _crossbeams_ and _wires._ When it came to making a quick buck, human insensitivity was _astounding._ His ears twitched in frustration.

There was still plenty to do, though. Map the building, check for cameras, find the guard office-  
They were being watched. He scanned the ceiling. Nothing... there! but it wasn't on. And the prickling feeling was coming from a completely different direction...  
Above the doorway? No, nothing. The only camera was the one he had already spotted- SERVOS AND CIRCUITS WHAT WAS THAT THING. 

The thing- another animatronic? Or perhaps a spirit? Was standing in the hallway, openly staring at them. Aside from its glowing silver eyes- Which seemed to be half closed? _Why?_ Bonnie couldn't make out more than an asymmetrical silhouette.  
It didn't seem to be moving, but if it _was_ an animatronic, it was in bad shape. It was leaning heavily to one side, with holes rotted into its suit. It seemed to have long ears- was it another Bonnie? Was this thing meant to resemble _him?_ But one ear seemed to be missing the top half. The faint glow of its eyes did nothing to light the area around it.

Someone- probably JJ, from the angle- had the thought to to switch on the built-in lights added in their optics and turn them on the thing. It was a pale yellowish-green, covered in mould. While its suit was made of a thick felt-like material, whatever fur it might have once had was gone. The suit itself was riddled with holes, displaying an endoskeleton covered in rust. Unusually, its belly and the inside of its ears were darker than the main body, which was a design detail Bonnie hadn't seen before. The felt had patches of what was either more mould or ancient bloodstains, mostly around the joints. It also had a horrifying, sadistic grin.  
It certainly fit in with the 'horror attraction' aesthetic.

 _What is it? Where did it come from? What happened to it?_ Bonnie wondered. The other animatronic wasn't providing any answers. Bonnie stared into those silver eyes, but there was no indication as to what it was thinking. It wasn't even moving. It just watched them.  
_Is it even alive?_ That thought made him stop for a moment. While the animatronics of Freddy Fazbear's Pizza were sentient- always had been, always would be, and nobody knew why or how- it was possible that characters from other places didn't have the same spark of life. Maybe it was from Happy Frog and Friends or something. Fazbear's Fright certainly seemed like the type of place to use some off-brand bootleg.

It definitely wasn't a Bonnie, though- Bonnie models were blue or purple, not _green._ Though this thing might have once been yellow...  
_Yellow Rabbit._  
He was staring at the thing with new eyes.  
_The killer was never human. It was an animatronic. All along, it was an animatronic._  
They were standing face-to-face with the Freddy's Killer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really, Bonnie? Did you have to drag poor Springo like that? If anything, _you're_ some cheap knockoff of _him._ And then immediately jumping to conclusions with very little evidence- You haven't even had a conversation with him!  
> And stop it with the italics! It's such a pain to port over to AO3! Who wrote this anyway? Oh. Right.  
> Considering the fate of various Night Guards, 'jumping to conclusions with no evidence whatsoever' is probably pretty common among about ninety percent of these goddamn robot furries.
> 
> Also, yes! Balloon Girl, one of the single most forgotten characters in the entire franchise, is going to be actually relevant in this thing. Her more well known brother, Balloon Boy, is not. He's not even in this thing. Where _is_ BB? Who knows! Scrapped, presumably. I mean, his head's in a cardboard box in the office.
> 
> And by 'Happy Frog and Friends' I mean the Mediocre Melodies, obviously. They probably aren't called that by the company who owns them. I mean, who would call their own creations, with which they are trying to make money from, 'mediocre'?  
> Though I guarantee that the in-universe internet does. If its aware of their existence.
> 
> No, they aren't going to be relevant.
> 
> I'm gonna try and update this at least once a week, but we'll have to see how we go.


	5. Exploration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Freddy goes for a walk and nothing is actually achieved.

Freddy regretted pulling Bonnie of the Killer.  
In his defence, the bunny was terrible at explaining things. He hadn't given any reason for lunging at the broken down animatronic, which hadn't even fought back, just backed away from his attacks. It was only after Freddy tore Bonnie away- letting the Killer vanish elsewhere into the building- that the lavender rabbit had justified his actions. In a very disjointed fashion, that had wasted valuable time that could have been used Hunting. And then Balloon Girl had suggested that the Killer might be trying to lure them into a trap, so Chica had suggested the move in pairs, and _servos and circuits,_ they had been at this location for an _hour_ and Freddy was already having a terrible day. Also it was 10 AM. The location operated at night. Why.

Bonnie and Foxy- the more impatient duo- had gone on ahead, bickering loudly. Freddy and Chica followed along at a more sedate pace, taking the building in. Chica had described it as an 'organised mess', and Freddy had to agree. the walls were grimy, and with the poor lighting seemed to have a mouldy green colour. They were split in half by a familiar strip of tiles, and were covered in posters, newspaper clippings and children's drawings, all old and yellowed. The pizzeria in its later years hadn't looked _great,_ but this was ridiculous. The walking paths wound between endo parts (where had they gotten _those?_ ), animatronic masks (many hung from the wall, but not all; again, why? And what was with the lights?), and ancient arcade machines (did they work? Who knew! They weren't even _plugged in. What was wrong with these people._ ) Freddy could feel cool tiles under his paws, and was glad the flashing lights didn't bother them anymore.

They came to a room with a window, the first one they'd seen. But instead of a view of outside, there was another room on the other side- the office, Freddy guessed. Peering through the glass showed a room that was dark, dirty, and cluttered with random stuff-so basically like the rest of the building. This one seemed to have _actual furniture though._ It also had a large red fox poking around it.

Foxy glanced up at them as they entered.  
The entrance was odd-down another, short, hallway. _What's with this place and hallways?_

"Any sign?" Freddy asked.  
"Nah, nuthn'. Bugger's vanished. Bon's doubled back, but..." Foxy gestured vaguely with his hook. "Doubt he'll find anythin'. Wherever its hidin', its hidn' well. Lily-livered coward." He added quietly, ears twitching in irritation. His hook flexed, ready to rip and tear the Killer to pieces if he found it.

"Could..." Chica started hesitantly. "Could we try the security cameras? I mean, that's how the Night Guards found us..." Foxy was already manipulating the monitor before she could finish her thought. The other two leaned in to see. _No, no, no, no, ye-no, wait, that's Bonnie, no, no, no, no, circuit breakers this place has a lot of cameras, no, no...that's all of them. Where is it?_

Chica sighed. "Damn. I really thought..."  
"Don't worry about it" Freddy reasurred her. "It _was_ a good idea. Let's go meet up with the others and figure out a plan of attack."

The bear, chicken and fox padded out of the Office, not noticing the second monitor behind their heads, or the security cameras it was tied to.  
Hidden in the walls, crouched in the vents, the animatronic they hunted released a degree of tension. Springtrap Corpserabbit was going to have to tread carefully from now on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uuuurrgggggh Foxy why do you have to talk like that it's such a pain to tyyyype.  
> I actually tried to write the Bonnie-Spring face off but I kept slamming facefirst into a wall so I gave up and just gave a summary.  
> Poor Springtrap is going to be spending a lot of time hiding from now on.  
> Also, Spring has a last name now. Corpserabbit. It fits his body, although not his personality. It was given to him by one of the more... jaded employees of Fazbear's Fright, and just kinda stuck.


	6. Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Shadow Freddy shows up and the plot starts to plot.

Springtrap slipped back in through the exit door. His ears twitched as he listened.  
He'd been doing this for weeks- hiding in the vents, slipping outside the attraction, hiding in the shadows, moving as silently as he could. His greenish colour and exposed endoskeleton legs fit the attraction so perfectly that he'd quickly learned he could stand still and silent in a dark corner and effectively camouflage.  
That trick had saved him more than once.

**Follow me.**

The voice sounded in his head, strange and unfamiliar. Springtrap _hated_ those two words. The bought back bad, blood-soaked-  
_No, don't think about that. DO NOT think about that._

**Follow me.**

A bear stood in front of him. One ear was missing, and its fur was a shade of purple so dark it was almost black. Its eyes and teeth glowed, jarring in the darkness of the building. It was the shadow-bear.  
Springtrap had encountered it before, once. It hadn't ever seemed malicious- in fact, at times it had been downright benevolent. 

**Follow me.**

Springtrap hesitated, the headed towards the bear. The last time he'd seen it, it'd dragged _his_ ghost off to hell and then given him some cryptic numbers and images.  
An image of a balloon, yellow and grey squares, grey cupcakes, a string of numbers. Springtrap had never really understood what it meant, but had guessed that the shadow-bear had plans for him. Now it appeared that he was going to find out what those plans were.

**Follow me.**

As the old rabbit approached, the shadow-bear turned and walked through the doorway and into the next room. Despite its legs moving, the shadow bear glided smoothly, was levitating three inches off the ground, and, when its toes _did _make contact with the tile, they slipped right through. When it stood/levitated in the next room, Springtrap also came to a stop.__

__**Do you remember what I told you?** _ _

__Springtrap wished he could answer properly. When he'd arrived, he hadn't realised the extensive damage to his body had rendered his voicebox nonfunctional. Springtrap _did_ remember the numbers and images and patterns the shadow-bear had shown him, back in the Safe Room.  
That had been a long time ago, during the first week of being sealed away. But he was a computer, an AI. He didn't forget. He _couldn't_ forget._ _

__**Good.** _ _

__Somehow, it had heard his thoughts. Springtrap opted not to question it. He'd seen the shadow-bear drag the soul of a serial killer off to hell; the fact it was also apparently psychic _really _wasn't much of a stretch.___ _

____**So young, and left without a voice.  
I ask you now to make your choice.  
Clean the tiles of blood and tears?  
Or let them suffer with their fears?** _ _ _ _

_____With that delightfully cryptic message, the shadow-bear vanished, leaving Springtrap alone in the room. _What in the world was_ that _supposed to mean?__ Nothing answered his silent quandary. He looked around. A replica of The Puppet's mask hung on the wall, and one of Chica's sat on the floor, providing the only light aside from Springtrap's own faintly glowing eyes. There were drawings on the wall opposite the pale white mask-one of Freddy, two of Bonnie, one of The Puppet, and one of what was presumably Balloon Boy.  
An image flashed behind the Corpserabbit's eyes.  
_Balloons..._  
He reached out to brush the picture. Springtrap's fingers tingled, as it there was a buildup of static in his hand. The drawing, rather predictably, did nothing. Except- was it the lighting, or were the black lines growing darker?  
Springtrap blinked slowly, his eyes once again stalling when they were only half-open. The black lines were spreading, slowly at first, then growing faster, in a similar fashion to a drop of water on a page. Or in this place, an inkblot. But water stopped spreading. Soon the entire picture was consumed by darkness_ _

____Another difference to a drop of water on a page: it usually _stopped _once it reached the edge. It certainly didn't keep going, consuming other pages nearby and also a sizeable portion of the wall. The old rabbit felt like he was staring into the endless void between stars.___ _ _ _

______A pair of silver eyes slowly came into focus._ _ _ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so Spring learned an important lesson: if you stare into the void, the void stares back. Using your eyeballs.
> 
> This chapter wasn't the calm, reflective, poetic nature that I tend to apply to Springtrap, I guess? Though maybe spending time outside the safe room is slowly adjusting his brain (or...the animatronic equivalent of a brain, I guess?) to be more normal. Or maybe It's just a result of my own exhaustion, pain (braces), and my subconscious being sarcastic, I guess.
> 
> Shadow Freddy's little rhyme was made up on the spot. Make of that what you will. He and RWQFSFASXC aren't really that bad- they're just kinda alien, and have their own agenda, and kinda just struggle to connect with anything that lives on Earth. But they helped beat William Afton into the ground, so they can't be that bad.
> 
> TIL that while AO3 italics are irritating, bolded words are even more so. Not that that's going to stop me. But I'm still writing the original drafts om Wattpad.


	7. Void

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which poor Springtrap has a panic attack.

Springtrap slowly managed to pick out more features. A round face, painted cheeks, spherical body, propeller hat. blue pants. Red and blue stripes. Hollow eyes. The fact it was floating several feet off the ground. If the void even had any ground.  
_Who set Balloon Boy on fire?_  
The animatronic- if it was an animatronic, which seemed unlikely- reached out one hand. Springtrap hesitated, then took it. The Phantom BB vanished the moment his fingers brushed against it, fading into the darkness.  
The void started to grow, cocooning around Springtrap, although he felt nothing. He wasn't scared. He _should_ be scared, but he trusted the shadow-bear enough to believe it wasn't dangerous.  
Besides, he doubted anything would be scarier than the things he'd already seen in his long life.

**He was falling.**

**He didn't know when the shift happened- when he went from standing on cool tiles to freefalling through an endless void.**

**All around him was nothing but darkness. He could see nothing aside from his own body, and even that was hard to make out.**

**And so he felt, rather than saw, as bands of shadow wrapped around his body, few at first, and then many, so many, until his suit and his endoskeleton were completely wrapped in darkness.**

**Then it started to constrict.**

**It tightened around his chest, his limbs, his ears, is head. Squeezing, confining, compressing his body down smaller, ever smaller. He started to panic, but he couldn't see, couldn't hear, couldn't move, why couldn't he move, he could never move, every time he needed to move he couldn't move, he couldn't move, he couldn't move, he couldn't move, and it was getting darker, the darkness was in his mouth, wrapped around his endoskeleton, covering his eyes, forcing him to be smaller, smaller still, ever smaller, ever smaller, he couldn't move, he couldn't move, he couldn't move-**

**Suddenly it was all over.**

**he was standing in a room. Two walls, the floor and the ceiling were bright blue; to his left and right was nothing but the void. There were clouds in the void. Springtrap did not understand why. He was still shaking. In one hand he was holding something. It was a purple balloon. His hand was tan. Or peach. He didn't know. His hand was a circle. His hand was a sphere. Was it his hand? He didn't know. It was shaking. He was shaking. He looked down at himself. He saw a red-and-blue striped shirt. He saw dark blue pants. He saw brown shoes. He was Balloon Boy. He had become Balloon Boy. He didn't understand. He was Springtrap Corpserabbit. But here, in the blue and the cloud and the void, he was Balloon Boy. He wasn't sure how to feel. He was still shaking. There was a blue platform in front of him. It seemed to be floating. This place was so strange. It messed with his head.**

**He was still shaking. He called up a memory, of turquoise eyes and golden fur, of whispers in the night that meant nothing and everything, of a feeling of happiness, that nothing would ever change, because the world was already perfect.**

**It calmed him, and it gave him perspective.**

**The shadow-bear had led him here, into this voidplace, for a reason. He just had to find out why. He would do his best to complete the goal, even if he didn't know what his goal was. He started to walk towards the blue platform. There was something on it.**

**Maybe, when all this was over, the shadow-bear could do _him_ a favour.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And then he met Old Man Consequences and was stuck forever fishing with an ambiguous red thing that's probably a crocodile.
> 
> I had to physically restrain myself from throwing in a 'he couldn't breathe' during Spring's panic attack. He doesn't need to breathe. Because, yanno, _robot._  
>  Also: Breathe. Breath. Very similar words. Very similar meanings. Not the same word. Not the same meaning. Some people don't seem to realise this. This is a pet peeve of mine.
> 
> Poor Spring has several fears, including: Not being able to move, being alone in the dark, William Afton coming back from the dead, not being able to prevent someone getting hurt/killed, not seeing his boyfriend ever again, water, and knives. All of which are perfectly reasonable fears, all things considered.  
> Shadow Freddy managed to hit _three_ of them.


	8. Balloons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Springtrap turns into Balloon Boy.

**The platform was higher than it appeared, or maybe he was just shorter than he was used to. Probably both. He stopped underneath it, looking up at it, balloon still clutched in hand.**

**The problem was, he didn't know Balloon Boy at all- he'd only gotten a couple of glimpses of the small animatronic, but the entrance to the Safe Room in the '87 location had been right next to the door for Parts and Service, a room where BB never went. So the two times he'd actually seen him was during the day, and Spring had been dealing with more... immediate problems. So he didn't actually know BB's abilities, aside from what little he'd gleaned from JJ.**

**He tended to avoid JJ, for obvious reasons. She wasn't directly dangerous, but she could easily tell the others where he was.**

**_Furthermore, this place is weird and screwy and not part of normal reality,_ Spring-BB grumbled to himself. _So for all I know I_ could _jump up there. Only one way to find out. It's not like anyone's watching._ To his surprise, he found he could jump high enough to easily land on the platform. He was pretty sure the actual Balloon Boy couldn't do that. _Of course this place has wonky physics._ **

**__On the platform were two bright red balloons. Spring-BB reached for the nearest one, and it vanished with a 'blip' when he touched it. Something changed on the purple balloon, and he was confused to see a 7 printed on it. Spring-BB grabbed the other one which also vanished. 6.  
He began to understand. He needed to collect balloons. _Okay. That's not too bad._ Though why he had to be Balloon Boy- and why Shadow Freddy couldn't do it itself- were questions that he might not _ever_ get answered. Turning his head, he saw two more platforms- each positioned like steps, each with a single red balloon. Jumping higher than reasonable, Spring-BB collected them too. _The next platform had two, and the final had only one. 1. Spring-BB looked around, confused. 1. There had to have been an eighth balloon around somewhere. He continued down the platforms, looking carefully for the final balloon. When he got to the bottom, he found a white door marked 'EXIT'. Was that it? did he just...go through? He was still missing a balloon. Spring-BB decided to take another look around. _If I can't find anything, I'll use it.__ _ _**

**__**

____

**__**

**__He found it on the third platform. He'd just landed when the wall above it _flickered,_ just for a moment. He hesitated, then reached up to touch it.  
His hand went through._ _ **

**__**

____

**__**

**__Spring-BB paused, confused. His hand was still inside the wall. _What in the world?_ He considered his options. The way he saw it, he had two. He could back off, and go through the exit door. But the wall was incorporeal for a reason. He could find out why._ _ **

**__**

____

**__**

**__There was only one thing for it. He closed his eyes- which were blue, instead of the brilliant green they'd once been, or the translucent silver they now were- and jumped._ _ **

**__**

____

**__**

**__He found himself falling through the void, away from the blue room with the clouds, until he landed on a circular red platform. it gave slightly below his feet, and he realised he was standing on a flat-topped balloon. He saw more balloon platforms, floating in the void. Spring-BB carefully jumped across. He didn't know what would happen should he fall, but he didn't want to risk it. When he came to the final balloon platform, he found another blue floor. There was something cloaked in the darkness up ahead. He got closer, and saw a white, ghostly shape. They stood silently on the blue platform, dark tears streaming down their cheeks and onto the floor. Spring-BB tried to get their attention, but the ghost didn't respond._ _ **

**__**

____

**__**

**__He saw something far below- another blue platform. With one last attempt to touch the ghost-his hand went right through, and they didn't even notice- Spring-BB turned and leaped._ _ **

**__**

____

**__**

**__He landed on it, far below, and he found he was standing on top of a box, one similar to the one he'd started in. He saw nothing but black underneath it, but he instinctively knew there was solid ground there. He saw something far off, and fell off the side of the box in order to walk towards it._ _ **

**__**

____

**__**

**__The void below was still pitch black, but to the sides were stripes of grey and white- bands of various thicknesses, resembling a bar code. He saw a black, twisted tree, and three dark silhouettes of beings that resembled BB or JJ, crying the same dark tears as the ghost far above. Like the ghost, they were still, silent, and not truly there. He reached out and touched one on the shoulder, and his hand went straight through._ _ **

**__**

____

**__**

**__Spring-BB turned and headed back to the blue box, away from the striped sky and strange figures. A section of the box flickered like before, and he climbed through without hesitation. It was much like the first- floating blue platforms, positioned like stairs, with white clouds inexplicably floating in the void. This time, however, there were only four platforms, and a single balloon, that changed to purple, then green, then orange, then red, then back to purple. _The last balloon._  
He reached out and grabbed it._ _ **

**__**

____

**__**

**__The last thing he saw was the world turning pure white._ _ ** ____

**__**

____

**__**

__As the white faded away, Springtrap found himself standing in the room he had started in, back in his old, decayed body. Instead of the purple balloon, he was clutching a rolled up sheet of paper. He carefully unfurled it to find the drawing of Balloon Boy. He pinned it back in it's rightful place, then moved off, walking as silently as possible._ _

**__**

____

**__**

__As he went, he pondered what had just happened. He only knew one thing: _I_ will _find a way to help the ghost-child, if it's the last thing I do.__ _

**__**

____

**__**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoo boy, Spring's having to put up with a few things, isn't he? And by a few I mean a lot. Why do I do this to him.
> 
> Naturally, BB is one of the animatronics Springtrap has had the least interaction with- if you count 'listening to them yelling at each other at 4 AM' or 'watching them drag some poor night guard to their death' interactions. Poor boy's seen and heard some stuff. But we already knew that.
> 
> And no, there is no good reason (from an-universe perspective) for Shadow Freddy to have Springtrap turned into Balloon Boy. RXQFSFASXC probably had something to do with that particular idea. RXQFSFASXC is a bastard.


	9. JJ

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which JJ has to put up with RWQ's bullshit.

**Hey there.**

JJ jumped, glancing around for the source of the voice.

**Seriously? Up here, shorty.**

She looked up. Floating several feet above the ground, looking for all the world like he was reclining in an invisible chair, was a rabbit.  
The rabbit was solid black, as if it was a hole in reality. It had glowing eyes, and similar teeth stretched into a mischievous grin. JJ recognised him- she had caught a glimpse of him before, once, when she was huddled beneath the guard’s desk waiting for Bonnie to calm down. She hadn’t even been sure why he was angry, least of all why he was angry at _her._ Back then, his silhouette had reminded her of Blue, but now it seemed to resemble the Killer, if the Killer was repaired. She wondered if her perception had just shifted after encountering the monster, or if Shadow Bonnie had subtly changed his form. It probably didn’t matter.

**I know, I know, I’m wonderful and impressive and spectacular, but you can close your mouth now.**

He made a motion that JJ couldn’t follow with the black-on-black nature of the being. She squinted. Was he _preening?_ Maybe he was based on Blue after all. Then again, she knew nothing about what the Killer’s personality was actually like.

“Why are you talking to me?” She figured that was a good place to start. There had to be some reason for this conversation, after all. It wasn’t liked he’d deigned himself to speak to her before- or anyone else, for that matter.  
Not as far as she knew, anyway.

**Maybe I’m just bored. Or I want to see how our little backup is doing.**

“You’re bored? Don’t you have a friend or something- Shadow Freddy? Wait, what do you mean, _backup?_ ” JJ’s head was spinning. 

**That’s what you are, aren’t you? Our little backup. Our...contingency plan. In case a little robot was unable or unwilling to fulfill his role. Lucky you, it doesn’t seem like that will happen. Assuming your little friends behave themselves, of course.**

“I don’t understand. Backup for what?”

**The wheels are starting to turn once again. A plan forty years in the making is falling into place. And my piece is still a few days off. So yes, JJ, I am _bored._**

“So I’m backup for your plan? Who am I backup for?”

**We need you to take a message.**

_God, getting information from this guy is like pulling wires._  
“A message for who?”

**Tell him that he must go forward before going back.**

“Tell _who?_ Freddy?”

**Of course not. He’d ruin everything, no matter how well-meaning he is.**

“So who then?” JJ had an awful thought. _Shadow Bonnie’s appearance…_ “The Killer?”

**What are you, stupid? He’d _definitely_ ruin everything, and probably think it’s _funny._ And you aren’t supposed to leave the building!**

“So Foxy the- wait, what do you mean, _leave the building?_ ”

**The killer isn’t here. Is that really that much of a surprise? And no, the fox is not relevant to this situation.**

“So the rabbit’s _not_ the killer?” 

Shadow Bonnie huffed. **You’re going to have to be more specific. There's currently three rabbits in this building.**

“The new one.”

 **What does Bonnie have to do with this?** The black bunny was starting to get irritated now.

JJ blinked. “Bonnie’s not new.” The lavender animatronic and his companions had seemed ancient when she had first encountered them- old enough to have already been deemed useful only for parts, to have been retired. 

**Of the three rabbits in the building, he was created last.**

JJ paused for a moment as the information sank in. “What?”

**You heard me. Well, not _heard_ exactly-**

“How old-”

 **He’s sixty. But that’s not relevant. Look, are you going to help or not?** He was definitely getting annoyed now, his glowing eyes narrowing. 

“So let me get this straight. A potentially dangerous supernatural rabbit wants me to take a cryptic message to a potentially dangerous animatronic rabbit, and then somehow convince the other potentially dangerous animatronic rabbit and his potentially dangerous animatronic friends that the first potentially dangerous animatronic rabbit is not, in fact, the _definitely_ dangerous child-murdering serial killer who’s...somewhere else. Have I got all that?”

 **Well, you don’t _have_ to tell your little friends that he’s not the killer, though that _would_ make my life easier...Oh, and I severely doubt Springtrap has the potential to be dangerous. He’s quite the pacifist, actually. But other than that, yep! Have fun!** Shadow Bonnie started to spiral in on himself, like a miniature black hole.

“Wait! What’s your name?” The rabbit paused, then unfurled.

**What?**

“I mean, you know mine.”

**Fair point...Very well. RWQFSDASXC.**

“I have no idea how to pronounce that.”

RWQFSDASXC sighed. **Of course not. My...companion often shortens it to RWQ. You may do the same, if you wish.** He paused, cocking his head. **If you do decide you do want to help clear Springtrap’s name, a good place to start is the office, after nightfall. The guard’s quite green, so he’ll be willing to help.**

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?” JJ glanced up, but RWQ was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO HOW ABOUT THAT SECURITY BREACH TRAILER? 
> 
> There's so much to unpack:
> 
> -No mention of security girl?  
> -A rabbit-shaped shadow in the first room, but the ears weren't floppy like Vanny's?  
> -I wonder how much of the dialogue was Vanny and how much was GlitchhareMaltrap talking through her?  
> -Some weird creature with the face of a moon and a tendency to hide in the kitchen?  
> -It looks? So GOOD? AHH IT'S SO BEAUTIFUL I CAN'T.  
> -Gregory is **so** dead.  
> -Potentially friendly animatronics? Maybe?  
> -Vanny mentions friends- are they already dead? Are they haunting the Glamrocks? Or the moon thing?  
> -TBH the moon thing kinda reminds me of Ennard. Not sure why.  
> -Maybe the moon thing is the new Puppet though? We'll have to see.  
> -It looks so different from the Glamrocks? Why?  
> -Did Vanhare build it.  
> -Is Glamrock Freddy haunted, or is he sentient?  
> -I'm pretty sure that was Freddy anyway. Apparently Kellen Goff did that particular piece of voice acting?  
> -I desperately want Montgomery to speak solely in Monty Python quotes. I mean, what's even the point otherwise?  
> -No Roxanne? At all? Even Chica got a poster.  
> -Golden Freddy's in the game guys. What else could that statue be?  
> -If the statue doesn't come to life at some point I will be very surprised.  
> -Friendly animatronics would be a series first and Very Cool.  
> -Imagine a game where you play as an animatronic. FNaF World doesn't count.  
> -Are we sure Vanny's human? Humans don't glitch. Human voices dont glitch when they saw the word 'glitch'. Human voices generally don't echo like that.  
> -Also, glowing eyes.  
> -Damn, Vantrap's not even _trying_ to be subtle.  
> -Someone please punch VRabbit in the face.  
> -Why is _Freddy_ scared of Vanny?  
> -Then again, Will can apparently tear animatronics to pieces with his bare hands...  
> -And so can a pack of children, now that I think about it.  
> -Huh.  
> -Maybe Fazbear Entertainment is just bad at building animatronics.
> 
> Anyway, who's excited? I'm excited! The game looks AMAZING. I know that it's from the PS5 build, but still!
> 
> Ten to one it'll be released in time for Christmas.


	10. Rabbit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Springtrap makes a friend.

JJ spotted him as he stood staring at some picture on the wall. While seeing him did initially make her panic, she quickly calmed herself. _RWQ says he’s not the killer. He’s a pacifist. You can trust him._ She glanced up at Springtrap. His silver eyes glowed faintly, his eyelids trapped in a half-closed position. She steeled herself. __

“Um, Springtrap?” The rabbit jumped, turning his head toward her. She could see him tense. He started to back away. _He’s scared? Of me? Why?_ Somehow, knowing that the old animatronic was frightened bolstered her own courage. 

“I just want to talk. RWQ said you’re innocent?” That seemed like a good place to start. Springtrap paused, cocking his head. He was still wary, and the name didn’t seem to mean anything to him, but he was willing to cooperate, at least. He inclined his head in what appeared to be a nod. 

“Uh, he asked me to pass on a message. He said that you have to ‘go forward before you go back’?” Springtrap cocked his head. Maybe he was pondering the meaning of the message. Or maybe his head was just off-balance as a result of his broken ear. JJ decided to go with the first option.  
“Yeah, I don’t get it either.” 

Springtrap glanced back towards a drawing of BB, then back at her, eyes narrowing. Part of his mouth twitched, as if he was trying to make a facial expression, but couldn't.  
_His mouth is locked like that,_ JJ realized. That raised a whole host of questions- how he'd gotten to be in his current state, primarily. 

"Uh," she said. _Wow, JJ, very eloquent,_ "How did you, um, you wind up like…" she gestured vaguely at his rotten suit, rusted endoskeleton, and generally broken body. Springtrap cocked his head, opened his mouth slightly, and made a sound that sounded more like garbled static than an actual voice. 

____

JJ recognized the sound- back in 1987, a few days before the Bite, some particularly rough kids had broken Mangle's voicebox. She'd only been able to make garbled noises, and it had frustrated him to no end. It wasn't hard to imagine Springtrap's own voicebox had similarly failed him. 

"Broken voicebox?" Springtrap gave a nod. "So that's why you didn't try to explain yourself when Bonnie attacked you." Springtrap made a gesture. It took JJ a moment to recognize it.  
"Sorry, I don't know sign language. I don't think anyone else here does either." Springtrap dropped his hands. She could guess what he was thinking: _damn_

JJ ran thought for a moment. "Do you know Morse code?" Springtrap shook his head. "I could teach you?" His ears visibly pricked up at that. She took that as a _yes._ "So dashes are three times longer than dots. The letter A is dot-dash..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aww, Springtrap's made a friend. So has JJ, for that matter.  
> It's good for both of them- Spring has someone who's giving him a way to communicate, isn't actively trying to tear him to pieces, and will help him clear his name. JJ has someone who won't just ignore her and will do his best to give her advice, help, and support when she needs it, and I'll get to write some cute and wholesome chapters. Win-win!
> 
> Not much to else to say here, this one was just short and sweet.
> 
> And yes, I _am_ still buzzing from the Security Breach trailer.


	11. Arcade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Springtrap pushes the right buttons.

Springtrap tapped the picture again. He'd been doing this, on and off, for the past day or so. Whenever it was safe, whenever no humans were there, he tried to get back to the Void.  
The Void was not cooperating.

The ghost child was still in there, and Springtrap _desperately_ wanted to help them, to free them, if only he could _get back in there._ He thumped the wall in frustration.  
All he had was a seemingly normal piece of paper, and a cryptic message JJ had bought him from _another_ shadow-being.

 _You have to go forward before you can go back._  
Spring was pretty sure that the 'back' was the void, go forward where? _Alright, Springtrap, calm down, think this through. Use logic. You do_ not _only have a piece of paper._ He recalled the shadow-bear. _Do you remember what he told you? Yes. But do you?_

 _A balloon. Grey and yellow squares. Four cupcakes. A string of numbers. You already know the balloon._ He closed his eyes, recalling the squares burned into his memory. Sixteen in all, they had been in groups of two-by-two, with one yellow and three grey. _A code. All you have to do is put it in._ But _where_?

It wasn't like Fazbear's fright had a shortage of squares- the floor was tiled, not to mention the strip on all the walls. There were rectangular drawings and posters in every room. Not to mention the code might not be square-based at all, and it was just a visual to get the code across.  
Springtrap was _not_ yet desperate enough to poke at every tile in the building.

It happened while he was slipping through the arcade- at least, that's what _he_ called the room. It fit, with the old machines lined up in a row. The tiniest flicker of something at the edge of his vision, the quietest whisper barely picked up by his powerful ears, the faintest breath of air on his suit. Then it was gone. He could've easily imagined it. But he knew he hadn't.

He stared around at the machines in turn. Most of them had joysticks, or buttons, or both. But only one of them had buttons in the right positions. It was a two-player game, one that Springtrap didn't know the name of. Below the controls, on the body of the machine, were pictures of pizza; above it was a graphic featuring Freddy's face on a green background. The screen was wider than on most cabinets. The buttons were a faded red. Their positioning matched the squares perfectly.

_Okay Spring, let's do this._

He closed his eyes, recalling the squares yet again. His hand moved over the buttons. Top left, bottom left, top right, bottom right. He opened his eyes, and realized the screen no longer reflected the world around it. It was pure void.

Three silver eyes gazed back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's pretty sort, actually. Huh. did not realize that when I typed this thing out. It took longer than usual- the words didn't really want to go.
> 
> I also wrote a oneshot on Tumblr today. It was for my FNaF Dragon AU, which is an AU where all the animatronics (and most of the humans) are dragons. I'd like to post it on here as well, but it comes with a picture, the picture is non-negotiable, and I'm not sure if it's possible to post them on AO3.
> 
> It was about a tearful reunion between Very Bi Dragon Fredbear and Very Gay Dragon Springtrap.
> 
> Should I start a oneshot collection? Or should I post it separately, as it's own thing? 
> 
> Any suggestions welcome.


	12. Parts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Springtrap boops a cake with his newly acquired snoot.

The Phantom Mangle came out of the screen. Springtrap raised his hand to touch it, then hesitated. He remembered what had happened last time he’d entered the Void- the feeling of fear, of panic, of being rendered unable to move. His hand started to shake.  
Then he recalled the ghost-child, and his Fredbear, and he steeled himself for what was to come.  
He placed his hand on the Phantom’s head, and it vanished.

Before, the void had spiralled around him. It had cocooned him, covering the walls, the floor, the ceiling.   
This time, he found himself floating. It was a strange sense of weightlessness- he’d never really experienced it before. He floated towards the hole in reality where a screen should be, and found himself going through headfirst.

**He looked back over his shoulder, and watched as dark tendrils consumed the rectangle of dim light behind him.** **_No going back now._ ** **Not that he wanted to.  
** **He was still drifting forwards- at least, he thought he was. He had no point of reference, felt no breeze against his suit. Maybe he wasn’t moving, after all.**

**This time, when the ribbons of shadow came, he felt afraid. Somehow, knowing what was coming made it worse when they wrapped around his suit an endoskeleton, weaving over and around and through his body. Once again, they covered him completely, rendering him unable to move, constricting around him and forcing ever smaller, into another body, another shape, one that was not his own. He closed his eyes before the darkness overtook them, and started to recite the lyrics to every song he had sung at the Diner, in chronological order. Lord, he missed Fredbear** **_so much_ ** **. He wished his partner was there to comfort him.  
** **Things had always seemed much brighter when they were two.**

**When he came to, he was standing in a room with the void on either side, and solid, pinkish-purple walls, floor, and ceiling. Blue clouds and..were those windows? Were floating in the distance, and Spring-Mangle could see a platform in front of him, with something made of metal on top.  
** **When he leaped up onto the platform, he found the object was actually part of an endoskeleton. Bumping it with his nose resulted in it attaching itself to his body.**

**Ahead were four more platforms, two of which also had miscellaneous parts. There was also a clearly-not-real child running towards him, and Spring-Mangle knew- in the way one knew their dreams- that allowing the child to touch him would result in his expulsion from the Void. he jumped up, landing neatly on the lowest platform and collecting the leg there, before following them up for a third part. The fake-child was running around below him, oblivious. He jumped over its head and continued on for the fourth piece, which he recognized as Mangle’s second head. He wasn’t sure if the real Mangle was able to see through the eye there, but was grateful he couldn’t- it would’ve been disorientating.**

**He could see the door below him as the fake-child bounced off the wall, but he knew there had to have been a way out, just like before. He first checked the wall in front of him, and, yes, there was a spot about a quarter up the wall where he was able to slip through. This time he didn’t hesitate.**

**He jumped.**

**As he fell, the void started to be filled with red and white bands, and when he landed, he saw a dark figure before him, kneeling on grey-and-black legs, thick, inky tears pouring down to the ground from behind closed eyes. Spring-Mangle nudged it, but it was like the tree- not truly there, more of a statue than anything else.**

**He continued past it to find the red and white stripes fading away, replaced by twinkling stars overhead. He stared up at them for a moment, entranced. He had seen stars before, of course, but it had always been through a window, or a hole in the ceiling; he’d never been out in the open air in the night.**

**He shook himself out of his trance.** **_Focus, Spring._ ** **Continuing forward, he found a zigzag of red balloon platforms, leading upwards. He jumped up them, growing more confident with each leap.  
** **What he found at the end was a cake. He hesitated, then touched it with his nose.**

**The world once again turned white.**

Springtrap opened his eyes to find himself staring at the large screen in front of him. Unlike before, the silver eyes staring back at him were his own. The broken ear, the torn plush, the mold and bloodstains. All his.

He hated it.  
Perhaps the worst was his mouth- the fur and suit torn away, the missing teeth, the way the skulllike smile seemed completely sadistic despite the fact it couldn’t be farther from the truth. The way it seemed to incriminate him, when he was the most harmless animatronic in the building.   
He tried to ignore it, tried to convince himself his appearance didn’t matter- but he still wished his mouth showed his true emotions, instead of being locked in a permanent smile. He heard a quiet cracking sound , and glanced down to see he’d been clutching the joystick of the arcade machine, and had squeezed it hard enough to cause the top to crack. He carefully released it.  
Even if he could just cover his mouth, that would be… An idea occurred to him. Springtrap cocked his head, thinking. Sure, he couldn’t wear it while the attraction was open, but…  
The old rabbit started to move off, walking with a purpose. 

After all, nobody was bound to notice if an already torn curtain hanging from the wall lost a strip of fabric.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lord, this one took a while to write. I managed to produce a Flight Rising oneshot while halfway through making this. 
> 
> As a minor sidenote: While Spring-Mangle solely uses male pronouns, it's worth mentioning that the real Mangle wouldn't. Spring-Mangle is Springtrap in Mangle's body, and Springtrap identifies as male, whereas Real Mangle uses both male and female pronouns simultaneously. 
> 
> None of these robots really see gender as a biological thing, partially because they aren't biological, so they tend to see it as more of just... A Thing that everyone does but is Still Technically Optional.
> 
> So yeah, FNaF cast says Trans/ Enby Rights. End of discussion.


	13. Guard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which JJ makes another new friend, who has access to Google.

There was still an hour before opening, but the Night Guard always seemed to arrive early. He had some sort of portable folding computer with him, and was typing something on the lower half, which consisted of the keyboard. JJ hesitated.

She was underneath the desk- it had been her preferred hiding place back in '87, but she'd never been underneath this one before. That said, it wasn't particularly different- metal frame, wood top, Night Guard pants and boots, wheelie chair. Nothing particularly out of the ordinary.  
The Night Guard was an average size for an adult male human, and seemed to be mixed race- Japanese/Caucasian, if JJ had to guess. He had large green eyes, short black hair, and a round, cheerful face. He looked perfectly ordinary in the pale purple shirt and black trousers of a Night Guard uniform.  
JJ had never talked to a Night Guard before.  
Sure, RWQ had said she needed to talk to him, but he'd also said that the guard was 'quite green'. Whatever that meant. Looking up at his face, she could tell he looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn't place how. Maybe she'd encountered a parent or something.  
_Better get it over with, JJ,_ she told herself. _If you can talk to Springtrap, you can talk to a random Night Guard._

"Hello?" she tapped the boot in front of her. The Night Guard squawked and fell backwards, chair and all, ending up in a tangle of limbs on the floor. JJ managed to resist the urge to laugh. In her defence, it _was_ pretty funny. She'd never scared anyone before. Not to the degree to get much of a reaction, at least. She walked round towards his head. "You okay?"  
The Night Guard stared at her for a moment, his lips moving but no sound coming out, before replying. "Um...yeah." He awwardy got to his feet, nearly tripping over his chair in the process. _Hardly graceful.  
_He sat down, still staring at her. "Sorry, I didn't realize you could, uh, talk."  
JJ shrugged. "It's not like it's common knowledge. Anyway, I need to talk to you about something."  
"Okay?"  
"Have you heard of Shadow Bonnie? RWQ? He said you'd be able to help me with Springtrap's problem?"  
"Uh...Who? What? How?" The Night Guard seemed totally baffled. JJ's shoulders slumped. "Never mind.."  
"No!" JJ jumped at the force of the Night Guard's voice. "No, I mean, I want to help, I just- I don't know anything about your problems, or this Shadow Bonnie thing, or whatever. But I want to help." JJ blinked, then climbed up onto the desk and sat next to the monitor.  
"So here's the situation..."

***

The Night Guard- he'd introduced himself as Sam- sighed and rubbed his forehead.  
"So a pack of murder-robots think another robot is a child killer, and the other robot can't tell them he isn't the child killer because he's mute, and you can't tell them because they ignore you completely, and some random spirit or whatever with an unpronouncable name thinks _I_ can help, somehow, because I'm 'green', whatever _that_ means- oh, and if I make a wrong step, I'll get brutally murdered. Also apparently animatronics from the _1980s_ are sapient."  
" _Uh_ , yeah, that about sums it up. Though isn't it sentient?"  
"No it's sapient." Sam frowned. "Isn't it? Or have I been spending too much time on the SCP wiki?"  
"I have no idea what that is."  
They both stared at each other for a minute.  
"...I'm going to have to look it up because otherwise it'll annoy me." Sam moved towards his portable computer.  
"Sentient beings are aware they exist, sapient means... 'wise'. But it's often used to mean a being has a similar intelligence level to humans...huh. The more you know. So I guess you're both?" Sam blinked. "...We're getting off topic, aren't we." He glanced at his watch. "Oh, It's nearly opening time. Uh, feel free to stay, but I'm not really sure I'll be able to talk to you..."  
"That's fine." JJ jumped off the desk and sat underneath it. It felt familiar, safe, underneath the polished wood.

She stayed down there for Sam's six-hour shift, occasionally chatting about random subjects of little importance- what the various animatronics were like, what the SCP wiki was, how _literally nobody_ had any idea as to how a pack of robots gained sentience. Normal subjects. Whatever came to one or the other's mind, in the breaks between people coming through and Sam playing creepy sounds over the speakers because 'a couple of teenagers are smooching on cam six, do they you realize I can _see_ you, jesus _christ_ , _why are you even snogging in a horror attraction anyway_ , I _really_ don't get the appeal, I _swear to god_ -' or something along those lines, anyway.

It was only around 6:45 when JJ was able to bring up the subject she'd been sitting on all night- that she would bring Springtrap to the Office before Sam's next shift, and together they'd figure out what, exactly, RWQ expected them to do.  
To her surprise, Sam agreed pretty easily, once she'd promised that the 'Corpserabbit' was harmless. They said their goodbyes as Sam gathered up his stuff, and JJ went off to find Springtrap, feeling she'd just made a new friend- the second in as many days. For her, that was kind of a record.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> JJ has two friends now! Ones who actually listen to her! Good for her! And soon, Spring will also have two friends!  
> Look, I don't know what you people expect from these author's notes, but in my defense it's 10:30 PM what do you want from me.
> 
> Oh, in discord I and a couple friends were discussing how our versions of the FNaF cast would do playing Among Us, so here's mine:
> 
> -Chica would get yellow, and Bonnie'd already be purple, so Spring would just shrug and go lime.  
> -Spring winds up getting really bizarre RNG which results in his being Crewmate for like. 30 games in a row.  
> -Eventually he does get imposter and absolutely destroys everyone else.-And everyone is very jarringly reminded that 'oh yeah, this is the guy who used to be haunted by a _literal serial killer._ '  
> -Spring and JJ are both good at spotting imposters (though nobody actually _listens_ to them half the time)  
> -Foxy cackles every time he gets a kill  
> -Freddy's pretty competent in both roles  
> -Chica is either good at playing imposter or vents in front of everyone  
> -Bonnie is less competent than Freddy but far louder  
> -Sam actually knows what he's doing because he plays quite a bit in his spare time.  
> -Things get pretty interesting because almost everybody has basically a photographic memory.  
> -Foxy and Bonnie have shouting matches whenever one of them accuses the other.  
> -Mike (Afton) always gets voted off first to the point it's a running joke.  
> -Spring typically plays lime, JJ's pink, Freddy's brown, Bonnie's purple, Chica's yellow, Foxy's red, Sam is either green or white depending on his mood, and Mike typically plays either blue or black.  
> -Henry doesn't play a lot and is. Very bad. But he always goes green.
> 
> So anyway there's that.


	14. Adventure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Featuring a talk, a plan, a cake, and Spring-BB's Air Adventure Mark Two: Electric Boogaloo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter summary was the result of me asking the Discord for ideas for the chapter title while jokingly referring to it as 'Spring-BB's Air Adventure Mark Two: Electric Boogaloo', Pyro (End_Transmission) telling me to not mess with perfection, and me informing her that it'd ruin the aesthetic.   
> Still not really happy with the title, honestly.

"Springtrap?" the old rabbit turned to see JJ hurrying toward him. He shifted, moving out of the dark corner he'd been in and into the small robot's field of vision.  
"Oh! Were you hiding?" Springtrap tapped out a response. _FOXY PASSED EARLIER GONE NOW.  
_ If he had a problem with using Morse Code to communicate, it was that it was slow, clunky, and didn't allow for tone or elaboration. Still, it was better than nothing, improved by the fact he had someone to 'talk' _to_ , so despite its drawbacks, Springtrap was going to have to manage unless his voicebox got repaired, which unfortunately didn't seem all too likely.

"So, RWQ told me to go talk to the Night Guard because he could help you, and I did, and he does want to help, though he's not sure how, and he agreed to meet you tomorrow, in the Office, around eleven PM, if that's okay? His name's Sam, he's really nice."  
Springtrap scrambled to get out a reply. _OK._ he thought for a moment, then added _, NO CLOCK SEND SIGNAL AT 11. God this is a pain. Why are numbers so long?  
_ "Oh, RWQ also said Sam was 'green'. Any idea why?"  
Springtrap considered the question. He _had_ known a 'Purple Guy', once- or _thought_ he'd known him, anyway. But he wasn't sure if any other employees had had a similar association to another colour, or how this would apply to some random night guard. _NO BUT WILL TRY AND THINK.  
_ "Damn. Okay, I'll come get you at quarter to, okay?" Springtrap nodded, and JJ smiled before running off. Whatever JJ did whenever she was off on her own was her business.

***

**Spring-BB once again landed in the blue box of the Void, and followed the steps he'd taken last time. This time, there was no hesitation as he collected the balloons- he wasn't sure if he needed to, this time, but he did it anyway. He went through the wall, narrowly avoided falling off the balloon platforms, and followed them until he reached the crying ghost-child. Before, he'd tried to get their attention, and they hadn't responded at all.  
**

**This time, something was different.  
**

**When Spring-BB stepped onto the pale blue platform, the ghost-child once again acted as if he wasn't there- and perhaps they couldn't perceive him; Spring-BB didn't know. Had no way of knowing.**

**But this time, when he stepped forward, he was holding the cake he'd found as Mangle. He wasn't sure where it had come from, how he was suddenly holding it in both hands- he couldn't remember when it had switched places with the purple counter-balloon. But when he placed it gently in front of the ghost-child, they dried their eyes, picked it up, and raised their head to meet Spring-BB's gaze.  
** **And once again, everything faded to white.**

Springtrap found himself in the hall, holding the Balloon Boy drawing once again. As before, he pinned it to the wall where it was supposed to be, this time with a sense of finality. His journey would continue; he knew that. But Phantom Balloon Boy's role in it had ended.

***

Foxy raised his head, though he wasn't sure why. Something had happened, and he wasn't sure what, why, or how, but he felt a strange feeling of...peace. He cocked his head, concentrating. He managed to trace it back to Fritz, which was unusual in itself- the only emotions Foxy had gotten from his lil' matey were anger, grief, confusion, and fear. Peace wasn't a feeling the ghost had had for a very long time.  
Foxy didn't know what had prompted it, but he was glad. If they could catch the Killer, maybe Fritz and the others would finally find true peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo, another chapter done! Great. Cool. Love it when I do that.
> 
> Um. Not sure what else to say.
> 
> Have this bit of writing I posted to Tumblr.
> 
> _It's night. Spring Bonnie sits on the edge of the small stage in the diner. He has his guitar, and is softly playing- not any song in particular, not even much of a tune, just making it up as he goes along, seeing where his fingers take him._
> 
> _Behind him, sitting cross-legged, their backs touching, is Fredbear. His eyes are closed, and his head is leaning back onto Spring's shoulder. He's humming, or perhaps singing softly, in a wordless song- not any song in particular, not even much of a tune, just making it up as he goes along, seeing where his mind takes him._
> 
> _Maybe Spring's guitar and Fred's humming match up, maybe they don't. Neither of them care. They're content, with the quiet and the music, their thoughts wandering where they will, the feeling of warmth they get from each other. They never know what the future might bring, but for now, they're together, and in the end, that's what matters._


	15. Notes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Springtrap gets a new communication device and everyone dithers around in the office.

At precisely 10: 36 PM, JJ found herself back in Sam’s office, watching the cameras.   
She was not impressed.    
Freddy was breaking up yet another argument between Foxy and Bonnie, Chica and the Puppet were having a whispered conversation about something or other, and Springtrap was lingering near the exit, hidden in the shadows.   
As far as the denizens of Fazbear’s Fright were concerned, it was a perfectly ordinary Tuesday night.  
JJ switched cams again to find Springtrap had apparently noticed the activity and was now staring at it. It was impossible to tell what the animatronic was thinking (was his head cocked, or did it just sit like that?), but JJ noticed he had something tied around his face, like a bandanna. On closer inspection, it seemed to have been torn from one of the old curtains that JJ had seen hanging around. She wondered how the other animatronics would react.

Springtrap had asked for a signal (she was pretty sure that was what he wanted, anyway) and JJ opted for trying the ‘audio lure’.  
She hadn’t been prepared for it to sound like BB, and nearly fell off the table.

She knew it wasn’t him, obviously. He’d been destroyed, alongside Teddy, Blue, Tina, and Mangle- she could see the box full of their empty masks from where she sat. But that didn’t mean it didn’t sting to hear her brother’s voice again.  
Looking back at the cameras (after rebooting them) she found Springtrap had vanished from Cam 01, but when she flipped through, he was nowhere to be seen.  _ Where’d he go?  
_ She got her answer a moment later, when the sound of metal scraping against metal behind her caused her to turn. JJ hadn’t noticed the large air vent behind the desk, but as she stared into it, a pair of half-lidded silver eyes gazed back. JJ jumped as Springtrap kept crawling forward through the vent, and then watched as he clambered out in a manner that was not  _ completely  _ dignified, although the old rabbit’s movement still held an odd sort of grace that gave JJ a vague idea as to how he moved back in his prime.  
“Hey, Spring,” JJ greeted the animatronic, “I know you said to signal at 11, but I figured it’d be better for you to be here when Sam arrives, if that’s okay?” Springtrap shrugged, which added nothing to the conversation.

***

JJ found herself flipping through the cameras again as Springtrap poked around the small office. He’d found a box of old tapes, and was staring intensely at the labels, probably trying to make out the faded writing.

Sam, as it turned out, was clumsy even when he wasn’t having conversations with sentient animatronics, because JJ didn’t need rabbit hearing to listen to him struggling to open the door. Springtrap stared at her for a minute as they both listened to the unmistakable sounds of a human struggling with a set of keys.  
It took Sam about thirty seconds longer than most humans to figure out how to unlock the door, but he eventually succeeded. 

Sam did a double-take and nearly collided with half a Freddy suit when he realized both animatronics were already in the Office waiting for him. JJ couldn’t really blame him- Springtrap did not exactly look soft and cuddly, although he presumably once had, back when he was in one  _ piece _ .  
“Uh...hi, guys?” JJ couldn’t help but grin at the guard’s discomfort.  
“Hey Sam, come on in. Don't worry, he doesn’t bite. As far as I know.”  
Springtrap flinched. Neither girl nor guard noticed.

Sam settled into his chair, glancing between JJ and Springtrap. JJ was sitting on the desk, and Spring had positioned himself in the corner behind Sam, standing where he wasn’t visible through the window and leaning on the wall. 

It felt strange to be the one taking charge of the conversation, but Springtrap was mute and Sam was confused.  
“So, RWQ says that we can apparently clear Springtrap’s innocence, but has given us absolutely no directions whatsoever as to how, because RWQ is apparently a massive…” JJ searched for the right word.  
_ BASTARD?  _ Springtrap offered.   
“You know I can’t say that, Spring.” Sam dug through his bag, then slid a pen and spiral-bound notebook over towards the rabbit. He picked the notebook up, turning it over, then glanced sharply at the guard, silver eyes glittering.  
“Uh, I don’t really know Morse Code, so I thought…” Sam gestured at the piece of stationary. Springtrap turned the notebook over again, and JJ wondered what was going through his mind.  
Springtrap rather suddenly placed down both pen and paper, then moved towards Sam. The Night Guard visibly tensed- and JJ resisted the urge to laugh at Sam’s expression when it turned out the rabbit was giving him a (rather awkward) hug. It only lasted a few moments, but it was still quite sweet once JJ ignored how awkward it was- Sam was sitting, Spring was standing, and the rabbit clearly had some trouble bending over.

“So, um, who’s RWQ again?” Sam asked, breaking the silence.  
“Uh, Shadow Bonnie?” JJ offered. Sam just looked blank. “Weird ghost spirit rabbit thing? Told me you could help? I mentioned him yesterday?”  
“...You sure? Doesn’t ring a bell” Sam muttered, clearly confused. Springtrap made a small noise, and then gestured for them to move on.  
“But-”Springtrap just looked at her, and shook his head. He wrote something down-the first time JJ would ever really see him communicate in a full sentence- and then handed the book to her.  
_ The Shadow-Spirits are strange entities. Perhaps humans are not supposed to be aware of them. Perhaps humans  _ _ can’t _ _ be aware of them. Perhaps it doesn’t matter.  
_ JJ looked up at the green rabbit.  _ He’s a _ poet.  
Of the many descriptors that may have fit the animatronic, JJ hadn’t even considered  _ poet _ . Probably because it wasn’t a descriptor that applied to any of the others- not even the Puppet, strange as she was, would ever say something like that. JJ wondered if Springtrap talked like that as well, or if it was something exclusive to writing.  _ Perhaps it doesn’t matter.  
_ She decided not to ask.

***

They really hadn’t made much progress.  
Springtrap mostly just watched as the other two chatted, bouncing ideas back and forth. Most of them tended to have problems that boiled down to either ‘it wouldn’t work’ or ‘it would put one or more of us in physical jeopardy.’ they had been at it for at least half an hour now- more, if the clock was to be believed- and they were still at it.

He turned the notebook in his hands again. It wasn’t anything fancy- just an A4 spiral-bound notebook, plain black cover, apparently very cheap- but to Springtrap, it was important- moreover, it was the first true gift Springtrap had received since...what, 1983? Had it really been that long? Yes, he recalled it- it had been a handful of wild yellow daisies a little girl had found, and he’d woven them into a ‘flower crown’ (actually more of a flower bracelet- the girl had picked as many as she could hold, but children had small hands) and put it on Fredbear’s hat when his partner wasn’t looking. Fredbear had promptly worn it all that night and the next day, daisies and all. Spring hadn’t been sure if he’d noticed or not, but either way, it had been very cute.  
God, that had only been a few days before his world had crumbled down around him for the first time.

Sam’s gift was very different from the little girl’s- her name had been Silvia, he recalled- but in some ways, it was the same. A gift that didn’t mean much to the human, but so much to the rabbit. Sam’s gift was simple- a communication aid, but without knowing it, the guard had earned his loyalty with that small gift. Spring was  _ not  _ letting his new friend get hurt. Especially not for his sake.

Sam was flipping through the cameras- which seemed to be more of a nervous habit than anything-when Springtrap saw it. On Cam 02, just sitting in the hallway, was a grey cupcake. And then again, on Cam 03, sitting in the corner. And Cam 04, placed against the sideboard. And finally on Cam 06, sitting on an Arcade cabinet.   
There weren’t any more on the other cameras, just those four, staring through the screen with tiny white pinpricks.  
_ Four grey cupcakes…  
_ Springtrap knew what he was doing later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's astonishing how much they managed to do without it really being relevant to the plot. Ah well, at least Spring's got a chance to breathe (not literally), so that's something. He deserves it, poor boy.
> 
> Sam wasn't originally going to get that hug but one of my discord friends (Tumblr user Pyroweasel or AO3 author End_Transmission) was being VERY MEAN to her gay space beans and tried to convince me to be cruel to my boy so I let said boy have a hug to spite her. Take that, Pyro!   
> Also he just needs a hug.
> 
> The daisy thing was spur-of-the-moment but I like it.


	16. Cupcakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Springtrap becomes a chicken and feeds some decidedly not children.

Springtrap had slipped out of the office with a simple plan: he'd collect the cupcakes and figure out where to go from there.

One problem: the cupcakes were not cooperating.

Springtrap had travelled to where each cupcake should be, only to find nothing. He'd tried staring at where he'd seen them, he'd tried touching the air where they should be. Nothing. Maybe they only appeared at certain times. Or maybe…

After hours, when the attraction had once again closed and Sam had once again left, Springtrap was back in the office, flipping through cameras.  
And there they were. He stared at the one on Cam 06, before reaching out and touching the screen where it was.  
His finger tingled; he was on the right track.  
It tingled again, on Cams 02 and 03, but on Cam 04, darkness spread across the screen, covering the static that must have been on the screen. Springtrap hadn't noticed it before, for his vision was always clouded by a layer of static.

Once again, a phantom came out of the screen- this time a burn and broken Chica, no longer with cupcake, silver eyes glowing. Now, Springtrap didn't hesitate, taking the being's hand and closing his eyes as he was pulled, pulled into the screen, pulled away from reality.

**When he arrived in the Void, the world was green and black. He reached up to touch his face, and felt smooth plastic under his fingers. In one hand he held an empty plate. He felt a beak, and eyelashes. He was wearing a bib, labeled** **_LET’S PARTY_ ** **! His suit had been replaced by a hard plastic shell, shiny yellow and smooth. He wasn’t the Chica he’d glimpsed in the halls; the Chica depicted by the phantom. He was Toy Chica, dubbed ‘Tina’ by JJ and by others.**

**He wasn’t one to be bothered by the feminine body he found himself in; he had once been female himself, and had always regarded gender as something humans cared far too much about something so arbitrary and pointless. If the kid wanted a dinosaur, the kid should get a dinosaur, as far as he was concerned. Clothes were clothes. Why did people kick up such a stink about it sometimes?  
** **Admittedly, Spring-Tina knew so little about clothing, having never really worn any. People wore them, and got very upset when other people didn’t. Something about ‘private parts.’ Spring-Tina had no idea what they were talking about. Humans were weird.**

**He did know that Tina, being a Chica model, had a cupcake. But Spring-Tina had none. So did he need to find a cupcake, like he had to to enter this part of the Void? It made sense. So he started forward, to see what he could find.**

**What he found was platforms, cupcakes on platforms, and a hole in the floor. He opted to jump up and collect the cupcakes. There were two, spread across three platforms. He picked up both. The first rematerialized on his plate. The second vanished, and a number 2 appeared on his plate instead.**

**Falling from the top platform, he found two children crying on the floor. Both of them didn’t seem to be real- similar to the fake-child he had seen before. He walked up to the nearer one, and found himself giving it a cupcake, as if it had triggered some piece of programming. The child’s shirt turned green before his eyes, and it stood up and started smiling in the same instant. It was creepy.  
** **He repeated the process with the other fake-child, and watched as two green-clad children stood there, identical in every way, both standing, with arms raised and mouths open in big gaping smiles, as if they’d been cheering and been frozen in time.  
** **He suppressed a shiver and turned away.**

**This time, he jumped down through the hole. It wasn’t like he had anywhere else to go. There was nothing else on the top layer but those three platforms and two smiling fake-children.  
** **He wasn’t particularly surprised to see more platforms, as well as two more sobbing fake-children (oh, joy). His plate was empty, so he continued past them, searching for more cupcakes. He found them.**

**Two cupcakes, on two platforms, rather like altars. He hesitated, but took them, and returned to give them to the fake-children. They both acted like the others; blue clothes became green as they stretched into a silent frozen cheer.  
** **Spring-Tina fled back up top.**

**Before he poked his head back up through the hole, he paused. Had that wall flickered? He walked over to it, and, yes, it was one of the incorporeal ones. He squeezed through without question, finding himself in a small room, containing another ghost-child and two red balloon platforms. Spring-Tina jumped up to the ghost, and placed the cake-the same full-sized one he’d seen as Mangle, not the cupcakes he’d given to the fake-children- down next to the ghost.  
** **They looked up, dried their tears, and took it.**

**And everything went white.**

***

Chica felt a ripple run through her fur. She felt a chord strike within her, a feeling of peace.  
_ Susie?  _ She asked, reaching for the little girl she sheltered.  
She felt her curl up closer to her ’heart’, but otherwise she didn’t answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you know how hard it was to not make a 'spring chicken' joke? I don't even know what a spring chicken _is._
> 
> Anyway, new chapter! Bought to you by: Rayvee staring way too long at a video of the _Chica's Party_ minigame for reference. This is kind of par for the course when it comes to me describing the minigames... and pretty much everything else. I like to describe things, okay?! When you are first handed the writing, you must choose: dialogue, descriptions, or action. You do not get to choose, that is a lie. You wind up being competent only at one. Mine is description. Dialogue is hard. Action is worse. There's a reason why Bonnie lunged at Springtrap and then we had an abrupt _cut_ to after. That reason is that I felt like my brain was running to a wall every time I tried to make the words go. You know what I mean.
> 
> Grammarly is yelling at me to remove about a dozen commas but Grammarly is wrong and those commas are staying.


	17. Tapes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which JJ learns a great deal of things and gets very sarcastic.

JJ sighed. Flipping through the cameras had been fun at first, but after a while of nothing interesting happening, she’d gotten bored. Springtrap was hiding somewhere, Foxy and Bonnie were arguing, Chica and Freddy were having some sort of discussion, and the Puppet was in her box. Boring.

So she’d opted to searching the Office for a tape player.   
Springtrap had found a box of tapes last night, and JJ was curious as to what was recorded on them. She’d asked Sam, but he’d shrugged and mentioned that tapes were a mostly outdated piece of technology these days. As a result, he hadn’t had one at home.   
JJ reasoned there’d be some way to play the tapes, and if there was, it’d be near where the tapes were, right?

Turned out there was, which had to be the first time something about a Freddy’s organization system made sense.  
After much difficulty and finagling, she’d managed to get it onto the desk and plugged into an outlet (whoever invented powerboards was a genius). The labels on the tapes were faded, smudged, and generally unreadable, but JJ decided to just put the leftmost one in. Start from the start, she figured.

_ “Uh, hello? Hello, hello! Uh, welcome to your new career as a performer slash entertainer for Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza.” _

JJ paused it.  _ Isn’t that the head guard’s voice? _ She’d heard it a couple times, back in the ‘87 location. He’d left training tapes for the Night Guards there.  _ So these must be training tapes. That’s... anticlimactic.  
_ Still, she hadn’t gotten the tape recorder onto the desk just to give up five seconds in. She hit play.  
  


_ “Uh, these tapes will provide you with much needed information on how to handle slash climb into slash climb out of mascot costumes.” _

JJ paused it again. _ Mascot costumes? _ They’d never had mascot costumes at Freddy’s as far as she was aware, and Springtrap’s age implied they’d had animatronics long before the Classics were built!  _ How old are these tapes? _

_ “Right now, we have two specially designed suits that double as both animatronics and suits.” _

_ What. The. Heck. _ This couldn’t be real. This couldn’t be possible. How would that even work?!

_ “So please pay close attention while learning how to operate these suits as accidents slash injuries slash death slash irreparable and grotesque maiming could occur.” _

_ A Freddy’s animatronic is a walking death trap. Why am I not surprised? _

_ “First and most discussed is how to operate the mascots while in animatronic form. For ease of operation, the animatronics are set to turn and walk towards sounds they hear, which is an easy and hands-free approach to making sure the animatronics stay where the children are for maximum entertainment slash crowd-pleasing value.” _

_ You aren’t telling me anything new, Head Guard.  _ Both JJ, the other Toys, and even the Classics had been programmed with something similar.   
It had never worked particularly well. Everyone was perfectly capable of completely ignoring it.   
She wondered if Springtrap also had that particular piece of programming.

_ “To change the animatronics to suit mode, insert and turn firmly the hand crank provided by the manufacturer.” _

Now  _ this  _ was interesting. JJ perked up.

_ “Turning the crank will recoil and suppress the animatronic parts around the sides of the suit, providing room to climb inside. Please make sure the springlocks are fastened tight to ensure the animatronic devices remain safe. We will cover this in more detail in tomorrow’s session. Remember to smile: you are the face of Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza.” _

“Wait, back up,” JJ muttered, “Springlocks? What the heck are those?” The tape had ended; it had no answer. She swapped tapes.

_ “Uh, hello, hello. Uh, for today’s lesson, we will be continuing our training on proper suit-handling techniques.” _

_ This  _ was what JJ was interested in.

_ “When using an animatronic as a suit, please ensure that the animatronic parts are tightly compressed and fastened by the springlocks located around the inside of the suit.” _

JJ hit pause. “So this is real? Animatronics worn as suits? This is an actual thing? Why? And how would that even work?” The paused tape held no answers.

_ “It may take a few moments to position your head and torso between these parts in a manner where you can move and speak.” _

_ No elaboration,  _ JJ noted.  _ No explanations. _

_ “Try not to nudge or press against any of the springlocks inside the suit. Do not touch the springlocks at any time. Do not breathe on the springlocks, as moisture may loosen them, and cause them to break loose. In the case of the springlocks coming loose while you are in the suit, please try to maneuver from populated areas before bleeding out, as to not ruin the customers’ experience.” _

“These things sound better and better,” JJ muttered, “oh, who am I kidding, I already knew they were large metal deathtraps.

_ “As always, if there is ever an emergency, please go to the designated safe room. Every location is built with one extra room that is not included in the digital map layout programmed in the animatronics or-” _

“Wait,  _ what _ ?!” JJ’s head was spinning. Not only were there animatronic-suit hybrids, but there were also  _ secret rooms?  _ What the heck? JJ thought she’d been well-versed in the history and secret parts of Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza, but now she felt like she was missing out on huge areas of the place's history.  _ Maybe Springtrap knows something? I’ll have to ask him. _

_ “-the security cameras. This room is hidden to customers, invisible to animatronics, and always off-camera. As always-” _

“-don’t say it-”

_ “-remember to smile: you are the face of Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza.” _

JJ sighed. “Time for tape number three.”

“ _ Uh, hello? Hello, hello! Uh, there’s been a slight change of company policy concerning use of the suits. Um, don’t.” _

“Oh gee,” JJ muttered, “imagine. It’s almost as if they were giant metal deathtraps.”

_ “After learning of an unfortunate incident at the sister location involving multiple simultaneous springlock failures-” _

“-I’m definitely going to have to look into this-

_ “-the company has deemed the suits temporarily unfit for employees. Safety is our top priority at Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza-” _

JJ was pretty sure you could hear her snort from the other end of the building.

_ “-which is why the classic suits are being retired to an appropriate location, while being looked at by our technician. Until replacements arrive, you’ll be expected to wear the temporary costumes provided to you. Keep in mind that they were found on very short notice, so questions about appropriateness slash relevance should be deflected.” _

Ah, deflecting awkward questions: a staple of Freddy’s.

_ “I repeat, the classic suits should not be touched, activated, or worn. That being said, we are free of liability-” _

“-Don’t I know it-”

_ “-do as you wish. As always, remember to smile: you are-” _

JJ cut it off before he could finish.  
“So, there were animatronic-suit deathtraps that were retired due to an ‘incident’ at some sort of sister location, a secret room not on any maps or camera, and Fazbear Entertainment was being shady from the beginning. And there's still two more tapes to go. Lovely. So what happened to the suits?” A thought occurred to her. Springtrap. _Spring_ trap. _Spring_ lock. Was it a coincidence?  
_I’m_ really _going to have to talk to him later._

_ “Hello? Hello? Um, this is just a reminder of company policy concerning the safe room. The safe room is reserved for equipment and slash or other property not being currently used and is in fact a safety location for employees only.” _

“So someone was messing around in the safe room?”

_ “This is not a break room, and should not be considered a place for employees to hide and slash or congregate- and under no circumstances should a customer  _ ever  _ be taken into this room and out of the main show area.” _

JJ wondered who was letting customers into the safe room. Seemed weird, especially considering it was apparently just a storage room.

_ “Management has also been made aware that the Spring Bonnie ani-” _

“Wait, what?!” JJ yelled at the now-paused tape. “Who’s Spring Bonnie?  _ What? _ ” JJ had been confident that she at least knew  _ of  _ all the animatronics from Freddy’s- pros of being bought by a collector. But Spring Bonnie- that was a prefix she hadn’t heard before. Was there a Spring Freddy out there as well? Spring Chica?  _ What the heck?  _ She tried to concentrate- nope, the guy hadn’t said anything that she’d heard. There’d been a mention of something called the ‘Golden Duo’, once, but she’d never thought much of it…

_ “-matronic has been noticeably moved.” _

_ Well, of course it moved, it was an animatronic,  _ JJ decided. But she didn't feel convinced. Something about the entire situation felt  _ off, _ somehow.

_ “We would like to remind employees that this costume is not safe to wear under any circumstances. Thank you and remember to smile: you are the face of Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza.” _

So much to unpack. Not only were there secret rooms and strange animatronics who could be worn as suits, but there was an employee leading customers to the safe room and potentially messing with a ‘Spring Bonnie’.  
And then there was a potential connection between those suits and the old rabbit she called a friend-  
_ Rabbit. A rabbit named  _ Spring _ trap.  
_ _ A suit called Spring  _ Bonnie.  
__ Bonnie’s a rabbit- he’s always been a rabbit.  
**_Spring_ ** _ trap.  _ **_Spring_ ** _ Bonnie.   
_ __ Could it be?

She was almost afraid to put the last tape in. If animatronics had saliva, JJ’s mouth would be dry.

_ “Uh, hello? Hello, hello? Uh, this is just to inform all employees that, due to budget restrictions, the previously mentioned safe rooms are being sealed at most locations, including this one.”  _

“Wouldn’t it be cheaper to leave them unsealed?”JJ didn’t know much about money, but she’d heard a manager complain about how expensive it was to fix a wall (Foxy and Bonnie had shoved Blue through it).

_ “Work crews will be here most of the day today, constructing a false wall over the old door base. Nothing will be taken out beforehand, so if-” _

They were covering something up. JJ was sure of it. _ But what? _

_ “-you’ve left anything inside, it’s your own fault. Management also requests that this room not be mentioned to family, friends, or insurance representatives. Thanks again, and remember to smile: you are the face of Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza. _

JJ sighed and leaned back. There was a lot she had to think about, and a potentially difficult conversation she needed to have.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Oh gee, it's almost as if they're _giant metal deathtraps."_  
>  -Every Freddy's employee ever
> 
> Honestly, I love JJ. JJ needs more love. And by love I mean acknowledgment, she's almost ignored more than the goddamn _Phantoms._
> 
> JJ is legally banned (read: specifically programmed) from saying 'hell'. Poor JJ. It's not even that strong of a curse.


	18. Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Which Springtrap proceeds to have a mental breakdown. Twice.

JJ was nervous.  
That was the first thing Springtrap noticed when she approached him, the notebook clutched in her hands-  _ his  _ notebook. It still felt strange, actually  _ owning  _ an item after so long with nothing. His guitar was long gone, probably severely damaged or destroyed.

"Hey, Springtrap? You know those tapes you found?" He nodded. "Well, I was listening to them- as you do- and, well… they said some weird things, and I was wondering if you maybe knew something?" Springtrap made a  _ go on  _ gesture and carefully took his notebook. JJ hesitated, then went for the direct approach.  
"Are you Spring Bonnie?"

The rabbit froze.

_ Come on, I've got a very special present just for you…  
_ _ I-I don't know. Mummy said not to follow strangers…  
_ _ I'm not a stranger, I'm Spring Bonnie! I'm Bonnie's older brother. You trust Bonnie, don't you?...  
_ _ Yeah, okay…  
_ _ Good, good. Follow me… _

_ I'm Spring Bonnie I'm Spring Bonnie I'm Spring Bonnie I'm Spring Bonnie… _

_ It's me it's me it's me it's me… _

"Springtrap!"  
Springtrap jolted out of the echoes surrounding him to find JJ staring up at him in concern. She had her hand on his leg, and was gripping the plush- the first real physical contact he'd had with an animatronic since '83- and he just stared down at her, not really comprehending. She was shaking-or, no, that was him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know- are you okay? If I'd realized you'd react like that, I never would've asked."  
_ It's not your fault. It's not your fault that old name caught me off guard. Don't feel guilt for the echoes of the past.  _ He wanted to say so many things to JJ. But instead, he wrote:

_Once, people called me by that name, yes. But it was never a name I chose. It was never a name I liked. It was my name, but it didn’t feel_ _like my name._

“Okay…” He could tell she didn’t really  _ get  _ it. He didn’t mind that- she didn’t need to understand every aspect of Springtrap's life. That was  _ Springtrap’s  _ job, and he was apparently terrible at it.

“So you were kept in the Safe Room?” Springtrap nodded, grateful for the slightly less traumatic subject.  
“Do you know why they sealed it up?” Here Springtrap paused, pondering how to answer. He could just say  _ because of the corpse  _ and leave it at that, but he suspected that wouldn’t go over well.  
He wasn’t massively tempted, either. So instead, he answered her question with one of his own.  
_ Do you know who wore me when he shouldn’t?  
_ “Some idiot?” Springtrap couldn’t help it; he chuckled. It was an awful noise, with a closer resemblance to a cat coughing up a hairball made of broken metal and static than any real laugh. JJ gave him a startled look.   
_ Yes and no. _ This simple statement was one he was able to get out via gestures.  
“A room safe from animatronics and off the security system...someone was wearing you as a costume...someone was bringing customers into the back...the same guy?” Springtrap nodded, “it was just a storage room…I feel like I’m missing a piece.”  
She was  _ so close,  _ he could feel it. He didn’t want to push her, though. But if he could just give her a nudge…  
_ What do the other animatronics blame me for? _

He could _see_ the exact moment when she figured it out, when the expression of concentration and confusion morphed into a variety of emotions that changed so quickly it was dizzying. Shock, anger, horror, sympathy, more he couldn’t name.  
“He...you…I...The suit? You were the _suit?_ ” Springtrap could only nod, dark memories welling up behind his eyes.

_ It’s me. _

_ I’m not a stranger. _

_ I’m your friend! _

_ You trust Bonnie, don’t you? _

_ I think I saw your puppy. _

_ I can play guitar! I  _ taught  _ Bonnie. I can teach you too. _

_ I have a special balloon, just for you. _

_ Sure, you can meet Foxy. He’s resting right now. _

_ Hey, there’s a new game. Do you want to help us beta test it? _

_ Follow me. _

_ Follow me. _

_ Follow me. _

_ Follow me. _

_ Follow me. _

Memories continued to spiral, faster and faster-  _ blood, staining golden fur. A knife, handle carved to match his hand. A cruel smile, hidden behind a mask. Children lying dead on the tiles, life ebbing from their eyes. A scream in the night, drowned out by thunder and rain. A human, dressed in the lilac uniform of a security guard, crying,  _ begging _ , as he was dragged by a faceless rabbit… _

_ Death, and blood and pain, so much, so many innocents lying dead, their fates hidden away by Fazbear Entertainment. People barely remembered by the living. The screams of dying men, dying children, mixing and blurring together into a single voice, an unbearable cacophony of noise, and it just kept growing and growing and growing, louder and louder and louder until the formed words, save them, save them, save them, save them… _

**_You can’t._ **

***

JJ stared up at her friend, worried. He’d just been standing there, his whole body shaking, the pen and notebook lying at his feet where they’d fallen. She wasn’t sure what had happened- one second he’d been fine, and the next…  
_ He’s having an attack of some kind,  _ she realized.  _ What happened to him? What have I triggered?  
_ He was clutching his head- one hand gripped his lower jaw, the other had his palm positioned in his mouth, the fingers covering one eye, like he was going to tear his mouth open, or his head in two.

“You okay, Spring?” The rabbit just stared at her, seeming to not really comprehend what she was saying. Then something seemed to register, and he gave a slow, jittery shake of his head.  
“What happened to you?” she whispered, not expecting an answer.  
Springtrap’s gaze finally seemed to focus on her. A strange, garbled sound emanated from his broken voicebox. The same sound, over and over, until JJ was finally able to make out the words.

_ Save them. You can’t. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Who do I think I am, torturing Springtrap like that," I ask myself, proceeding to torture Springtrap like that.
> 
> Hhhh I hate this. I hate doing this to him. I'm a fluff writer, for god's sake. They'res enough angst already in this fandom. But Springtrap is traumatized, and traumatize him I must.


	19. Performance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Springtrap tries to console a child, and Chica tries to strangle Springtrap.

Springtrap was used to pain.  
But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt when JJ started avoiding him.

She didn’t seem to be aware of it- it was more a subconscious thing than an active decision. It wasn’t her fault. It was understandable that she’d be confused- even wary- after learning of that part of his history.  
He kept telling himself this, but it still stung.

He should just go find her, try to explain better- tell her that it wasn’t her fault he’d had those flashbacks, assure her that the Man Behind the Slaughter was dead and wouldn’t be coming back, make sure she knew that while his past had changed him, her knowledge of it hadn’t.

Then he heard voices- human voices- and internally cursed his long-defunct internal clock- he hadn’t noticed time slipping away from him like that.  _ Fazbear’s Fright  _ was now open, and he had sworn he’d play his role. He removed his bandanna and slipped into the shadows.

A group of Teenage girls squealed when he lunged out at them, silver eyes flashing. The quartet shrieked and ran, giggling as they went and clearly having a good time.  _ Good for them. _

Springtap didn’t mind this as much as the others did- it was performing, in a sense, something he hadn’t done since 1983- and while it wasn’t singing and dancing on a stage, he doubted that’d ever happen again. He didn’t want to do such a thing on his own, and there was only one he’d ever consider performing with- someone who was long gone.

Then he heard sobbing.  
A child crying was up there on the rabbit’s list of Least Favorite Noises- which also included people screaming (in pain), animatronic screeches, and cruel laughter (microphone feedback was also not that great. And things that sounded like they were trying to imitate microphone feedback. Like his voicebox, for example). He heard other people laughing, and then they rounded the corner. He saw a trio of large boys- though they couldn’t have been older than eleven or twelve holding a younger, crying girl. She was clearly terrified, sobbing, and they were hauling her through the attraction, laughing at her.  
The scene was so familiar. Springtrap felt sick. He was cloaked in the darkness again, aided by human’s lack of night vision, and contemplated his next move.

***

Chica felt worried.  
Neither she nor her friends had had it in them to scare the little girl- like they felt any investment in aiding the attraction anyway- but then the group had moved on, towards the exit. Towards where the Killer hid.  
They all knew that it lingered in that general area during hours- a combination of process of elimination and hearing frequent shrieks, screams, and squeals from that general area.  
And while the Killer hadn’t been known to take any lives (yet), she doubted it had any qualms about scaring the life out of the little girl. So she followed, as quietly as possible, fully prepared to throw hands if necessary.

The trio of older kids were still dragging her- two by the arms, one pushing from behind, and their laughter made her circuits dangerously close to overheating. She had half a mind to stop them, but before she could, something melted out of the shadows.

The Killer had its back to her, and it crept up behind them shockingly quietly. She could see various rips and tears pockmarking its suit- the most prominent being the one where Foxy had caught his hook on an existing hole and torn the plush. The rabbit sneaked around, coming up to what was profile to Chica but behind for the bullies.  
Then it tapped one- the middle one- on the shoulder. The bully spun around, his friends copying his motion, and they all took a few steps back, dropping the little girl as they did so. She curled up in a ball on the tile, quietly sobbing.

The Killer circled the three boys, who had quickly recovered and were now laughing at him. It walked slowly, with a visible limp. It suddenly stopped moving, and Chica realized what it had done- separated the girl from the boys. Then it paused, leaned down so its eyes were level with the kids, and  _ hissed.  
_ It wasn’t an unusual sound to hear from an animatronic- it was essentially a louder version of a pneumatic working. But coming from this grinning rabbit, with the broken ear and the glaring silver eyes (the eyelids had moved- the first time Chica’d seen anything change about its expression), it sounded  _ far  _ more threatening. But there was something else about the hiss too- when the Killer’s teeth parted, all three children suddenly recoiled, gagging.

“Oh my god, what is that  _ smell?”  _ One of them exclaimed. The Killer advanced a couple steps, his mouth opening and closing by about half an inch.  
“It smells like something crawled in there and  _ died.”  _ another said.  
“I wish I’d bought my mask.” the third muttered. Bully One suddenly grinned.   
“Though we’ve been looking for this one, right? Come on, Sophie, I thought he was your  _ favorite?  _ Don’t you want to give him a nice big  _ kiss?” _ He and his friends burst out laughing, and one of them reached around to grab Sophie’s arm…  
...only for it to be knocked out of the way.

The Killer’s whole demeanor had changed when Bully One had opened his mouth. The eyelids were now angled more sharply, the ears were flattened back, and there was genuine anger in those cold eyes. Whatever that bully thought he was doing, the rabbit wasn’t pleased.

The Killer straightened, looming over the three boys. Its right hand spasmed- Chica wasn’t sure whether that was a glitch or intentional. The white pupils of its eyes changed, and in the centre were tiny purple sparks. Chica wasn't sure what  _ those _ meant, but it probably wasn’t good.  
“Did his eyes change colour?” the third bully asked, “These things aren’t  _ actually haunted _ , are they?”  
“Nah,” the second one said with a dismissive gesture, “It’s just something they installed to make gullible idiots believe that.”  
The Killer stepped toward them, a metallic growl echoing from his chest.  
“Uh, you want to bet on that?”  
“...Maybe we should go,” the second and third bullies turned and fled, leaving only the girl, her brother, and the angry animatronic standing between them. The first bully hesitated, glancing between the door and the Killer, when the old rabbit gargled out something indecipherable while repeatedly jabbing him in the chest. Chica strongly suspected it was telling him off.  
The moment it stopped, he turned and bolted.

The Killer turned back to the little girl. Chica tensed, and despite the gentle way it handled her, she was scared for her safety when it picked the little girl up. Then it carried her away towards the exit. Chica tensed further, taking a step forwards, hesitant.  
On one paw, she already wasn’t really supposed to be this far along, and people might notice.  
On the other...a child was potentially in danger, and it was so close to closing...  
She snuck after them.

***

Springtrap gently placed little Sophie on the ground, feet first. The girl wobbled, but was able to stand. He brushed her down as carefully as he could manage, then opened the door. She went through, and he closed it behind her. She was as safe as he could manage. It would have to do. He did wish he’d been able to give the brother a proper lesson, but there was only so much he could do without a working voicebox. He hoped he’d at least managed to get his point across.

Turning to return to where he usually lingered, he nearly jumped out of his suit. Chica was  _ right there,  _ glaring at him. Her arms were folded, and her glowing magenta eyes were angry.  
_ Crap.  
_ “Where is she?” Chica demanded. “What did you do to her?” Springtrap indicated the door with his thumb over his shoulder- a common gesture that anyone could understand. Chica narrowed her eyes, probably trying to read Springtrap’s expression. Like he had an expression to read.  
Springtrap was fully aware his grin was probably not helping matters, but he held Chica’s gaze. He looked away first.  
“I really don’t know what your game plan is, but you don’t fool me for a second.” She jabbed the air between them. Springtrap didn’t react, but inside he was panicking.

Chica was blocking the hallway, and he couldn’t go far before he ran into one of the others. But that wasn’t the only problem.  
Springtrap’s survival method relied on getting out of sight and hiding- he’d duck into a vent, sneak outside or rely on the fact he could practically camouflage and hide in the shadows. But all these tactics relied on him breaking line of sight first- and that wasn’t an option if he couldn’t get past Chica.  
_ Crud. _

That left one method: improvise and hope Sam or JJ noticed before Bonnie or Foxy.  
Yeah, this was a great situation. On one side: Four fully intact, angry and haunted animatronics, and the Puppet, with all her simmering hatred. On the other: a constantly ignored three-foot-tall girl, a clumsy night guard, and a barely functional mute rabbit.

“It’s six AM. The building’s closed,” Chica murmured, more to herself.

She suddenly lunged forwards, her hands wrapping around his neck. Springtrap clawed at her paws, but she didn’t budge. He wasn’t worried about being strangled-being an animatronic, he had no need to breathe- but he  _ was  _ worried about sustaining more damage to his neck. If Chica managed to bend the supports out of shape that would be a problem _. _

Chica was stronger than Springtrap- all the Classics were. Springtrap had been built to be light, so a human could wear him as a suit without collapsing under the weight. The Classics hadn’t had that design detail, meaning Henry had been able to build them heavier and stronger without making them without adding extra bulk.

_ “Uh, hello! Hello, hello! Uh, welcome to your new career as a performer/entertainer for Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. Uh, these tapes will provide you with much-needed information on how to handle/climb into/climb out of mascot costumes…” _

As the human- Scott Bell, if he remembered correctly- continued on, Chica started to speak. Springtrap removed one of his hands from where he was clutching at hers and placed one finger on her beak. The meaning was clear:  _ shut up and listen.  
_ Amazingly, she did.  
As Scott continued on, through those five tapes that so clearly spoke about Springtrap’s past life, he felt Chica’s grip on his neck ease. And when Spring Bonnie was mentioned in Tape Four, he gave a nod in response to Chica’s questioning nod.  
When the tapes ended- Springtrap could have  _ kissed  _ JJ- Chica finally released him.  
“I- I need time to think,” she muttered, and fled.

Springtrap blinked, then headed to the nearby vent.  
Maybe JJ wasn’t avoiding him after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like _someone's_ finally grown a brain.  
> And yes. The Puppet is here. I can't blame you for forgetting, because she's practically never mentioned. Oh, and the Puppet's female here, I guess.
> 
> Sophie's name was suggested by Cluemily on Discord. She will never be relevant in the future (Sophie, not Clue, to be clear).
> 
> I'm... not even sure what happened in this chapter. I thought I should actually _do_ something with the fact Fright has actually been _open_ for months, and then Chica spontaneously appeared and decided to strangle Spring.
> 
> The plot of this chapter changed three times over the course of its writing. I wrote it in two afternoons.


	20. Gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the gay pining is ramped up to 11.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! Just as a heads up, this chapter contains some suicidal ideals. While it isn't particularly detailed, if such a subject could affect you negatively it may be better for you to skip the last few paragraphs of this chapter (When the italics stop).

Springtrap wasn’t sure why, but he felt there was something in the office. Of course, there were the ghost-cupcakes, but they had run their course. But he felt that there was something  _ else.  
_ He just didn’t know  _ what. _

There was something lingering outside the window. Springtrap’s first instinct was to avoid Freddy, but Freddy didn’t have empty silver eyes, burnt green fur, or a missing ear.   
Springtrap hadn’t seen one of the Phantoms outside of the various doorways to the Void- he hadn’t even considered they were able to exist anywhere else. But Phantom Freddy was  _ right there,  _ watching him through the window…  
It ducked down out of sight.

A moment later, it popped up right in his face with a scream and a flash. Springtrap blinked repeatedly, the light lingering in his vision more than he would like. It faded quickly, but a spot still stayed. He turned his head, blinked again. The spot had moved. Or was it still in the same place? He blinked again, actually  _ looked  _ where it was. The tiled wall of the office. He shifted his gaze blinked again. It was still there, on the same tiles. It was large enough to cover a square of nine- three by three.  
_ 395248.  
_ The numbers returned to his mind on their own. Springtrap ran his fingers over the tiles.  _ If they work as a keypad…  
_ He tapped what would have been the  _ 3\.  _ It didn’t give, but the tile flashed slightly. Feeling more sure of himself, he continued. The  _ 9  _ tile also flashed, as did each tile after that.

Springtrap rose with difficulty- he had trouble sitting down or getting up. The darkness oozed out of the mortar, spreading across the window, until a tear in reality the size of a door was before him. The Phantom Freddy drifted into view, silver eyes sparkling with a mischievous light, and held out his left hand- the right still holding a microphone. There was something odd about Phantom Freddy- while the other phantoms looked like someone had taken the original animatronics and set them on fire, there was something about Freddy’s colour that just didn’t  _ fit.  _ It was closer to Phantom Chica’s than it was to the brown-furred bear.  
Well, no use dwelling on it. Springtrap took the ghostly figure’s hand.

**It wasn’t that bad. Before- always before, the shadows wrapping around him had changed him, forcing his body into new shapes. This time was different.  
** **The shadows came, as they always did, and they changed him, like they always did, but the changes felt...small. Minor. As if the shape was something his body was already similar to, and it just needed to make a handful of adjustments.**

**When he opened his eyes, he saw fake-children. He felt a solid surface beneath his paws, and saw...himself.**

**Sure, there were differences. The yellow and black eyes. The paler belly and ears. The complete lack of a guitar or a bowtie. The smile that held no emotion. But there was no denying: that was supposed to be him. They both stood on a raised platform, like a stage.  
** **And that meant…**

**Soft golden fur. A large muzzle. Circular ears. A dark purple top hat. Springtrap didn’t have a heart, but he still felt it break. He was Fredbear.  
** **He was** **_Fredbear._ **

**Springtrap mourned the loss of his partner. Of course he did- they’d had years together, decades, before it was gone. Gone in an instant. A single, terrible, instant.**

**Springtrap was an AI, a computer. He couldn’t forget anything. He remembered the Bite like he remembered the colour of Fredbear’s eyes: in crystal clear detail.** **  
** **Though to be fair, both of those would probably be burned into his head either way.**

_ Fredbear had been Springtrap’s heart and soul; as much as he loved the children and gave each performance his all, his real reason for living was in the bear who sang beside him. Springtrap remembered singing on stage, a guitar in his hands and love in his soul. He remembered stolen kisses in the night, waltzing on cool tiles with music nobody else could hear. He remembered stealing Fredbear’s hat dozens of times, running off wearing it and giggling like a small child himself. He remembered quiet nights, when the only sounds were his guitar and Fred’s soft humming, sometimes the same tune, sometimes not, but neither of them ever cared. He remembered curling up together, watching stars twinkle in the night sky beyond the walls of the little diner, and truly believing that the time they had together was infinite. _ _   
_ _ After all, it was all they’d ever known. _

_ The Bite had been awful. They had expected a normal birthday party- they’d perform on the stage, then put into suit mode and carry the cake and sing Happy Birthday. It was something they’d both done a thousand times. It was simple, familiar.  
_ _ When they were performing, they tended to zone out. They weren’t allowed to dance across the stage when they were in animatronic mode anymore- apparently it scared the Parents, and also Henry didn’t want to weaken the springlocks, even though the springlocks didn’t weaken in animatronic mode- but that was okay. The kids still loved them, and they still danced in the night, so they were happy. They were both mostly unfocused, but Bonnie had heard a child crying. He wasn’t worried, though- the parents would comfort them, or an employee- they couldn’t stop the show for every crying child, of course. He heard laughter, too- laughter was good, laughter was normal. Laughter meant that people were happy. _

_ There were children climbing on the stage, near Fredbear, which was odd, because children weren't supposed to climb on the stage. Bonnie figured they’d be shooed off by an employee soon, and he knew Fredbear would never let them get hurt anyway. They were wearing masks- Bonnie knew they were prototypes for new animatronics. He and Fredbear were going to be moved to a new location with them in a few months, and he was curious to see what it would be like.  
_ _ Fredbear’s song stopped.  
_ _ The sudden change was so jarring, it snapped Bonnie fully back into reality. The masked children had shoved a crying child into Fredbear’s mouth. But that was okay. Fredbear would never let a child be hurt. Still, the child was terrified. Maybe he was stuck? Should he help?  
_ _ Fredbear’s beautiful turquoise gaze flicked back to him.  _ Help me,  _ he was saying. There was desperation in his eyes.  
_ _ All too late, Bonnie remembered the springlocks that frequently wound up stuck pinning minor workings to the animatronic’s mouth out of the way even while not in suit mode. It was a small problem, and Henry had promised to fix it next maintenance session.   
_ _ It was only now, with the crying and the struggling, that they came loose.   
_ _ Bonnie lunged forward, reaching for the child, but he wasn’t fast enough. Those springlocks snapped, Fredbear’s jaw convulsed like it always did, and the child went limp. Bonnie cried out, rushed forwards to try and extract the child, but there was already blood dripping down- so much blood, more than Bonnie had seen in his entire life before. Bonnie still tried to rescue the child, but it was too late, he was too slow, and there was blood, so much _ blood,  _ staining Fredbear’s mouth, his face, his front, and Bonnie’s hands and chest but he didn’t care, if only he’d been faster… _

**Springbear jolted out of the memories, hands cradling his head. He was curled up on the ‘stage’- when had that happened?  
** **Fredbear was gone, and it hurt. It hurt** **_so much._ ** **Spring hadn’t realized how much of his pain was from the loss of the love of his life until the other pain was gone. Fredbear was** **_gone,_ ** **and Springtrap might never see him again, and the pain was unbearable. It hurt. He hurt. He wanted to cry, but he had no tears. Fredbear was gone, because Afton had torn them apart, when he had taken the rabbit and abandoned the bear.  
**

**Springtrap was alone. He was alone and heartbroken. He had nobody, nothing. Why did he bother? What possessed him to keep going? The Classic animatronics wanted to kill him. Maybe he should let them. Just lay down his head and die. It wasn’t like there was anyone to miss him.  
** ****_But what if they go after Sam?  
_ **Springtrap had sworn a long time ago that he would do anything he could to protect any and all night guards he could. They had already been hunted for years when he’d made that vow, but Spring Bonnie had never been able to do anything but watch and remember. Now his body could once again move on its own. Did he really want to throw that oath away the first time he could actually fulfill it?  
** **The answer was no.**

**Springbear rose, wiped his dry eyes, and let out a sigh. He would keep going. He had to. And when his time came, he would go gladly, and return to those glittering turquoise eyes.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because there's nothing like turning into your dead boyfriend to cause some major gay pining. ~~Okay, Fredbear isn't dead, but this is the closest he'll get to making an appearance, soo...~~
> 
> Did I mention I prefer writing fluff? Because man, am I not doing that.


	21. Stage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Springtrap climbs up walls and writes poetry

**He was still hurting, but he pressed through it. He had to do this, had to finish this, because he was already too far along to stop now.**

**First, he had to leave the small room he was trapped in. There was always a way out, a place where the wall wasn’t solid.  
** **He found it under the stage.**

**The stage was fairly low, shorter than Springbear at least, so he had to crawl. He was basically going blind- all he could see was brown. He remembered crawling under a different stage to retrieve a certain bear’s microphone, in another place, another time, another world…**

**He squeezed out, nearly falling into the void below. The world around him was the usual pitch black, but below him he could see a brown platform. It was in an awkward position, but maybe he could reach it?**

**He couldn’t reach it. He slid down the side wall- it wasn’t a platform, it was a room, apparently- and then past another, before landing paws first on a platform that was either invisible or the same pitch black as everything else.**

**He couldn’t get into the room above him, so he only had one option: going forwards. He found yet another room- he hadn’t been this confused since Fredbear had started speaking solely in haiku for an hour (he still wasn’t sure what was up with that).**

**Failing to find an entrance to that one either, he continued on. There was another room, but this one was different- the wall had hand- and footholds clearly designed for an animatronic. Climbing up felt surprisingly easy, considering Springbear had never climbed anything before, and soon he was on the ‘roof’ of the room. There was another room above him, and two rooms above him, and he wondered if there was a connection to the ‘dialpad’ he had needed to get there. If so, that meant he was on room 9, beside room 8, and below rooms 6 and 5.**

**Having nowhere else to go, he jumped over onto room 8. He** **_could_ ** **find an entrance to room 5, and found himself popping up next to Fake-Bonnie, on an identical stage in an identical room with identical children which were identically creepy. The only difference was more handholds in the far wall, which he used.**

**The room above that- room two- was identical to rooms 1 and 5. Although this time, it was the wall the stage was connected to that had the handholds. He climbed up again- he wished there’d been a ladder or something in the Safe Room, that would have been** **_so much_ ** **easier- and had two choices: room 1 or room 3.  
** **Though now he thought about it, he wasn’t sure what he’d done if he had gotten onto the roof. It wasn’t like there’d been anywhere he could go. Maybe he could have tried to find Henry’s house, but who knew if the man was still alive, not to mention still living in Hurricane?  
** **Not to mention the risk of rain.**

**He chose room 3 to investigate first, but when he jumped over, he stumbled. Hitting the corner, he found himself phasing through, and knew he’d found… something. He saw them before he even hit the ground. The little ghost-child, crying quietly, dripping black ink in place of tears. He gave them the cake, and everything faded away.**

Springtrap was back in the office, alone. He was always alone.  
_ But so are the children. _

He wanted the children to find peace. He wanted his Fredbear back. He wanted to die. He didn’t know what he wanted. Was he in a place to want things? Did he  _ deserve  _ things?   
He felt scared. He felt angry. He felt pain. He felt peace. He felt calm. He wasn’t sure what he felt. He wasn’t sure  _ why  _ he felt. Why was he angry? Angry was bad. Why could he feel at all? He was a computer. Why was he alive in the first place? Why were any of them alive? Was it because of Henry, or something else?  
He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. He wanted to speak. Why couldn’t he speak? Did he _deserve_ to want?

He was holding something. He looked down, opened his hand and saw a gleaming purple microphone, accented with gold. It had been years, decades, since he had last seen it, but he recognized it. He knew what it meant.  
_ "Even after everything, I’m still with you." _

***

Chica was looking for answers. She knew the PA system must be controlled by something in the Office, and whatever recordings those had been would probably be in there too. She needed to know if it was  _ real,  _ because if the rabbit wasn’t the Killer…  
Still, if they weren’t sure, they could always fall back on their old ‘better safe than sorry’ approach. Policy. Whichever. 

Looking around the Office, she saw a box full of the Toy’s masks and props (rude, gaudy, offensive and not even where people would see them- she hated this place). The desk contained some bobbleheads (where had those come from? They were kind of cute, honestly.), a monitor for the cameras, a box of tapes, A tape player, the mike for the intercom- so that explained now the recordings were played- an empty cup from something called ‘Starbucks’, and a pen and notebook. There were posters and drawings on the walls, an empty Freddy suit (sans limbs) by the door, and…  
Was that a  _ vent  _ on the wall?!  
_ Servos and circuits, no wonder it keeps vanishing like that. It must know where the vents are.  
_ How had they not noticed the vent system earlier? It was easily big enough for an animatronic, and Chica considered using it herself, to see where it went. But first…

Playing the tapes, she found they were the same ones she’d already heard. Nothing new there. There wasn’t much in the drawers- wires with strangely shaped ends, random paperwork, extra kids drawings, a spare eyeball. There were a couple of boxes by the desk- one contained lightbulbs, the other had a single endo hand.

So she turned to the notebook. Flipping it open, she saw surprisingly neat writing- not that it made much sense.   
_ The Shadow-Spirits are strange entities. Perhaps humans are not supposed to be aware of them. Perhaps humans  _ _ can’t _ _ be aware of them. Perhaps it doesn’t matter.  
_ So whoever wrote in the notebook was clearly an animatronic.  
Underneath that:  
_ Winning all over at once would be nice, but winning one over may mean they aid us with the rest. Or perhaps not? You know them better than I.  
_ There were more sentences like that, as if someone had written down only half a conversation. Chica wanted  _ context.  _

After a few pages, things got weird. Chica saw one page dedicated to various doodles- there was one of some balloons, some squares, four cupcakes, and a sequence of numbers, as well as a picture of a cake and of children with empty eye sockets and some kind of liquid streaming from them. It was hard to tell with blue and white.  
The next page was covered in very different letters to the rest of the book- chicken-scratch, all caps, no curved lines, and layered over the top of each other a dozen times at every angle imaginable, to the point where it was almost impossible to read. She could make out some words though-  _ SAVE THEM, IT’S ME, YOU CAN’T, FOLLOW ME,  _ and  _ WHY?  
_ It looked like the inside of a brain when someone had a mental breakdown.  
And then the next page was poetry. It was a bizarre mood whiplash.

_ I remember a time of colour and joy  
_ _ When children played on a tiled floor  
_ _ Watched by turquoise eyes, filled with love and life  
_ _ Built by a kind man, we danced and performed _

_ I remember a time of peace in the night  
_ _ When the two of us waltzed across the tiled floor  
_ _ Watched by the stars and the moon in the sky  
_ _ Brought to life, by forces we never knew or understood _

_ I remember a moment of blood and bone  
_ _ When pain first stained the air and tiled floor  
_ _ Life ebbing from dark eyes filled with tears and fear  
_ _ Later we were separated, and they took me away _

_ I remember a time of whispers and death  
_ _ When children’s blood spread across the tiled floor  
_ _ Watched by blue eyes glittering with cruelty and malice  
_ _ Their bodies hidden, tucked behind metal and fur _

_ I remember a time of suspicion and anger  
_ _ When innocents were dragged across the tiled floor  
_ _ Their eyes the only part to see light again  
_ _ Their screams shattered the silence of night _

_ I remember a time of isolation and darkness  
_ _ When rats scuttled over the cracked tile floor  
_ _ While green eyes faded and gave way to silver  
_ _ Trapped in the room, it became a dripping prison _

_ I remember a time of frights and thrills  
_ _ When I was allowed to walk free once again  
_ _ Hunted by gazes of red blue and gold  
_ _ Cursed by the shadow, from a man long gone _

Chica just stared at the poem for a solid minute.  
The rest of the notebook was blank.

***

Freddy felt strangely energetic, like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Normally he’d be wary, but for once he felt like he could relax.

Chica had gone off somewhere, Foxy and Bonnie had stopped bickering for once, and the Killer was nowhere to be found, as per usual.  
It couldn’t hurt to rest for a night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remind me to not write poetry ever again.  
> At one point I tried to make it rhyme. I gave up. Quickly.
> 
> Fun fact, each stanza followed the same pattern:  
>  _I remember a time of ___ and ___  
>  When ___________ tiled floor  
> {Insert line about eyes/ watching}  
> {Screw syllables, include a comma}_
> 
>  __  
> I have no idea why, it just happened.  
>  Made things easier, though.


	22. Notes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which JJ loses her temper and Chica starts to question things.

Chica had questions. First and foremost: who had put those tapes on?  
The obvious answer: the Night Guard. Even if he didn’t do the tape thing himself, he probably would know who did. Although Chica couldn’t think of anyone else who’d be in the Office just after closing. Or at all, honestly.

She glanced at the notebook again. Hmm. Maybe one animatronic  _ did  _ come in here…  
Lost in thought, she didn’t notice the newcomer until she was halfway to the desk. Chica blinked at JJ, startled. The smaller robot seemed equally surprised, though not as startled. They both considered each other for a moment, and then JJ turned and clambered up the cardboard boxes and onto the desk. She flipped through the notebook, pausing at the poem, then shut it again and started flipping through cameras. Chica remembered all the odd times she’d felt a camera on her at strange hours, and realized that it must have been JJ the whole time.  
_ I should talk to her.  
_ The only problem was, she wasn’t sure how.

Chica felt slightly guilty. JJ had never interacted much with the other animatronics- she’d always done her own thing. Chica had, admittedly, ignored her- she’d never even thought to ask how JJ had escaped the other Toys’ fate.  
It was probably a little late for that.  
So how to approach JJ? It was clear the little animatronic knew something- had  _ she  _ played the recording? How should she ask? Should she start with small talk?  _ Why was she having so much trouble starting a conversation with someone she’d known for thirty-five years? _

“Uh, JJ? Have you ever listened to those tapes?” Chica decided to ignore the slightly surprised look the smaller robot sent her way.  
“ _ Um... _ yeah.”  
“Are they real, y’think?”  
“Yeah. I mean, the guy’s voice is the same as the guy who left recordings for the night guards, so it makes sense he’d be the one to make training tapes...”  
“Is it? Huh.” They lapsed back into silence.

“So...Is that  _ your  _ notebook, or…”  
“Did you have a fight with Freddy or something?” Chica blinked.  
“What? Why would you think that?”  
“You’re making small talk. With  _ me _ .”  
“And that has what to do with it?” JJ just stared at her for a solid three seconds.  
“Chica, when was the last time one of you actually initiated a conversation with me?!”  
“I-”  
“Or listened to me, or asked for my opinion, or  _ actually cared about how I feel?” _ Chica was surprised at the bitterness in JJ’s voice. She felt guilty. Sure, JJ hadn’t ever been much of a talker, but now she thought about it, it was understandable she’d feel neglected. Chica knew it wasn’t just her- all the others had ignored JJ too. But Chica was supposed to be the empathetic one. The one who  _ paid attention  _ to how the others were feeling. And she had never stopped to wonder what was going through JJ’s head. She had never even considered how JJ’d felt when Balloon Boy- her  _ brother-  _ had been terminated. She had checked in on the  _ Puppet  _ regularly, and JJ had been ignored. Chica hadn’t noticed JJ, but JJ  _ had  _ noticed Chica. But what could she even say?  _ I’m sorry  _ didn’t cut it.

“And stop trying to kill Springtrap! He never did anything wrong!” Before the startled chicken could respond, JJ stormed off with the pen and notebook.

***

JJ was still fuming. She had just poured her feelings out to Springtrap- the neglect, the anger, the loneliness, the frustration. She wasn’t sure why she’d taken Springtrap’s notebook with her. Was she looking for advice? Did she just want to rant? Did she want to know more about his poem? Gah, the inside of her mask felt like it had exploded into a very angry mess. Maybe she just needed to hit something.

Springtrap’s paw was slowly rubbing her back, and JJ was once again struck by how  _ different  _ it was. It barely resembled a paw at all, being far closer in appearance and design to that of a human hand than a rabbit’s paw. That went for all of Springtrap, actually- his movement, his body shape, his writing- it was noticeably more  _ human  _ than the others. Then again, he’d been  _ built  _ to house a human, so maybe it wasn’t that much of a surprise. She sighed.

“Spring?” The rabbit gave a small rumble in response, “Do you think I went too far?” The rabbit was silent, and for a while, he made no move to pick up the notebook.  
When he did, he wrote:  _ It never does anyone any good to bottle up anger for long. The bottle will always crack. Far better to let go. Do you feel better?  
_ “A bit. I guess. I don’t know.” Springtrap hummed- one of the few sounds he could really make, and even then it always sounded very  _ off.   
_ “What about you? You  _ never  _ seem to get angry.”  
_ I have seen the effects of uncontrolled anger. I always let go.  
_ “I guess. I just… don’t know how.” It hurt to admit.  
_ I’m here,  _ Springtrap wrote. JJ felt herself press closer to his chest.  
“Thank you.”

***

Chica didn’t have to be able to see whatever was being written in the notebook to feel she was intruding on something private. Not only did JJ believe the Killer was innocent, she  _ trusted  _ it with her insecurities and problems. And in turn, it treated her with surprising gentleness.   
It was obvious something wasn’t adding up. And Chica suspected what it was, but still...it didn’t  _ fit _ , it felt  _ wrong _ , she was missing  _ something _ , something  _ big _ …

_ Option one: Ignore everything, call the others, take it out now. Better safe than sorry.  
_ _ Option two: Keep watching, keep listening, try and figure it out.  
_ _ Option three: Just ask the goddamn rabbit. _

The best option was three, but how would Chica go about talking to someone she’d tried to kill?  
Maybe Freddy would have some ideas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chica somehow managed to achieve nothing for yet another chapter. Good work, Chica.
> 
> Double update tonight! Or whatever time it is wherever you live. 
> 
> Springtrap loves and cares for his little friend (platonically, of course). Fun fact: _Golden Echoes_ was not originally intended to become a JJ appreciation fic, but now I can't imagine it being any other way.
> 
> And thanks for all the kind comments, everyone! You people are my primary source of seretonin.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Freddy goes on the hunt, and Springtrap confronts a pair of thieves.

“JJ’s hanging out with  _ what?!”  
_ Okay, maybe going to Freddy wasn’t the best idea...  
“You heard me. She’s made friends with it, talks to it, and thinks it’s innocent...”   
“Alright, where are they?”  
“...And it’s being very gentle to her, listening to what she has to say, and there’s these weird tapes in the Office…” Freddy just stared at her for a minute.  
“Tell me everything.”

***

Freddy groaned. His head felt like it was going to explode. So there was a fifty-fifty chance the Killer wasn’t actually the Killer, JJ apparently knew more than he did, there were secret rooms in the old locations, and Bonnie and Foxy were having yet another petty argument. Sometimes he really hated his role as leader.  
“So... _ Cursed by the shade of a man long gone _ . That sounds like it’s implying the  _ real  _ Killer died somehow, but how would it know that? Unless…”  
“It killed him itself. Or at least watched him die?” Chica offered.   
“And there’s only one way to know for sure,” Freddy sighed, “how are we gonna go about this?”  
Chica shrugged.

***

It turned out that step one wasn’t  _ talking  _ to the Killer, it was  _ finding  _ it. Surprisingly sneaky, the rabbit-thing seemed to have effectively vanished, even from the place it usually haunted during opening hours. Freddy had considered talking to JJ, but she had apparently blown up at Chica, so they’d figured it was better to leave her.  
That seemed to have become more and more of a mistake as time went on. They had tried searching the shadows of each room, calling the name Chica had heard JJ used- Springtrap- and even tried crawling through the two vents they had managed to find. Nothing.   
“It must have some other hiding place,” Chica muttered. Freddy nodded in agreement.

***

Springtrap was watching the clouds.  
There was a particular location on one of the walls where- next to an external part of the vent system- he could sit without being seen by humans either on the road or in the car park. The sun warmed his fur, there was a pleasant breeze blowing, and all he could see was a grassy field leading to part of the woods. The sky above was a beautiful shade of blue, pockmarked by fluffy white clouds, and Springtrap had fallen into a sort of trance watching their shapes and patterns. He wasn’t sure what month it was, but it seemed to be late Summer. Maybe.

He had been slipping out more and more, lately- outside was not only quite pleasant compared to the dark, grungy interior of the attraction, but it was his hiding space that was least likely to be found. Not even JJ knew he could slip out at any point during the eighteen hours the building was closed. Here was private, just him and his thoughts.  
Like he hadn’t had enough time with them already.

Springtrap was the one who kept track of the night guards- when they had worked for the company, their names, sometimes their faces, when they had taken the job, how long they’d lasted, and their fates (most quit after a couple nights, some died. A handful were promoted, and one had been the victim of the  _ second  _ Bite). He had found the files in the Safe Room at one point, and had committed them to memory, so there’d be a record even after the physical files were beyond saving. He’d cross-indexed it with what he knew from watching and listening (mostly listening) over the years, and filed the whole project away.  _ Someone has to care when a guard dies.  _ And that someone was Springtrap.

Springtrap’s eyes appeared silver in the darkness and gloom, but in the sunlight it was clear they were actually colourless. They had once been a bright, vivid emerald green, but the paint had long since flaked away, leaving only the transparent plastic beneath them. His pupils were where the actual LEDs were located, and the lack of paint left them constantly glowing a sharp white. 

Springtrap heard someone pull into the car park, which was strange.  _ Fazbear’s Frigh _ _t_ was closed, but perhaps they were workers here to do something. Or maybe they were just from out of town, curious about the building or unaware of the operating hours. Still, he got up- with more difficulty than he liked- and slipped around to watch, curious.  
There were two of them, both large Adult men. Springtrap could see tattoos on their arms, legs and neck. They didn’t wear any uniforms, and Springtrap doubted they’d be customers. So what were they doing here?

While time had dulled Springtrap’s movement, eyesight, and ability to physically feel, his hearing was still close to what it had always been. It was unlikely it was superior to Bonnie’s, but Springtrap had one advantage over Bonnie- he actually listened. And those two men weren’t being particularly quiet. 

“You’d think they’d have security cameras  _ outside  _ the place,” one of them muttered.  
“Oh hush, it makes our job easier,” the other one responded. He pulled something out and pulled it over his face, obscuring his features. His companion did the same, and then started working on the door’s lock.  
“Hope the cash is worth it,” the first one muttered.  
“There’s plenty of scrap metal, we’ll be fine,” the second said breezily, waving him off.  
_ Ah. Scrap metal? _ Springtrap was vaguely aware that it was something worth decent money (from listening to  _ his  _ complaints, back at the Diner).  _ These must be thieves. _

It was slightly strange, a Freddy’s-related crime that was just… basic burglary. It was always the  _ unusual  _ crimes that happened- murder, manslaughter, OSHA violations ( _ so many OSHA violations _ ). But theft? That was new. And dangerous. If Foxy or Chica found them they’d have an extremely low chance of survival. And if they got too close to the Puppet’s box…  
There was only one option: scare them off before they got inside.

Both men jerked when Springtrap announced himself by stomping his metal wedge of a foot on the concrete path harder than was probably necessary. They both just stared at the animatronic for a minute, before Springtrap jabbed a finger at them, then towards the car park. His meaning was clear:  _ get. Out. _ Simple, direct, to the point. The two men looked at each other, and Spring could see how tense they were. They had probably expected to only have to deal with security cameras and harmless robots, not to be confronted by the ‘face’ of the operation, who was wandering around outside. But if they entered  _ Fazbear’s Fright _ , they would die. Maybe they didn’t know that, but Springtrap was horribly aware. The cries of the night guards and the cries of the children had never been all that different. They were all human. They all deserved a chance at life.

“ _ Shit _ , that thing’s fucking creepy. What’s it doing outside?” The first guy muttered, mostly to himself.  
“Probably just some shithead in a suit,” the other responded.   
“The place closed hours ago! And it won’t be open anytime soon!”  
“So he’s messing with us. Probably thinks it’s fucking  _ funny _ ,” Springtrap really needed better names than Guy One and Guy Two. One had a scorpion on the back of his hand. Two had a Chinese dragon’s head on his neck. Hmm.  
“I dunno man, you’d think you’d be able to fucking  _ see _ the guy inside.” Scorpion Hand said.  
“Then it’s just a shitty bot that wandered off. You don’t  _ seriously  _ believe in ghosts, do you?” Dragon Neck snorted.   
“Normally? No. With a fucking _ seven-foot  _ zombie rabbit staring me down? I’m a  _ little  _ more open-minded,” Scorpion Hand was nervous. Springtrap could hear the uncertainty in his voice, “And how’d it get out, anyway? You’d think they’d prevent that.”  
Dragon Neck seemed to be rolling his eyes behind the mask, “I think we already discussed how shitty the security is."  
“But the main mascot wandering around in broad fucking daylight?” Dragon Neck considered that for a moment.  
“Maybe they don’t know? How easy d’you think that thing is to move? It’d probably be worth a pretty penny.” Springtrap’s eyes narrowed and the lids shifted into a glare. He did  _ not  _ like the direction the conversation was going. The two thugs’ language was also not appreciated. Sure, excessive cursing was something plenty of humans did- but Springtrap was built for children. 

He decided it would be better to just scare them off and get it over with. He repeated the pointing motion from before-  _ get out-  _ and glared at them. Scorpion Hand skittered back a couple steps, but Dragon Neck didn’t budge. Instead, he crossed his arms, and Spring could  _ feel  _ the man’s glower. Okay. Scorpion Hand would probably book it with enough pressure, but Dragon Neck was clearly a problem. Springtrap stepped closer- slowly, not in any real hurry, trying to conceal his limp as much as possible. Scorpion Hand gave a couple more steps backward, hiding behind Dragon Neck.  _ Coward. Like I’ll actually hurt you.   
_ When Springtrap got close enough, he heard Dragon Neck gag. He knew he smelled pretty bad- in his defence, he hadn’t been cleaned in about forty years, not to mention the mostly-decomposed, partially-mummified corpse- and he knew it got worse when he opened his mouth. So he did, very deliberately pulling his bandanna down around his neck and letting the rotting-corpse smell escape from between his teeth. Both men jumped back.

“Jesus fucking Christ! Did something die in there?!” Scorpion Hand did  _ not  _ look happy when Springtrap gave a little nod. Nobody would listen to them, he was sure. And it wasn’t like they could explain what they were doing there anyway.  
“Um, dude? Maybe- maybe we should go,” Scorpion Hand offered. Dragon Neck just snorted again.  
“I’m not running scared from a bad-smelling old robot, fucking dead thing or not. Ghosts. Aren’t. Fucking. Real. It’s just a bot that smells like shit,” Okay. Dragon Neck was becoming a serious problem. Springtrap needed to resort to drastic measures. 

So he did the obvious thing- wrapped his hands around his neck.  
He didn’t hold the man tight enough to hurt him; just enough so he couldn’t escape. Scorpion Hand’s courage failed, and he bolted in the direction of the car park. Springtrap was going to let Dragon Neck wriggle free, but then he felt  _ something  _ enter his stomach. He looked down. Dragon Neck had a knife. A  _ knife _ . Springtrap was a normally calm animatronic, but there were certain things that could upset even him.   
Like knives, for example.

Springtrap normally wouldn’t drop a human in a way that was almost like throwing him down. He tore the blade out by the handle, ignoring the damage to his plush, and made a point to handle it incorrectly. If he clutched a knife properly... No. Instead, he stared Dragon Neck (now Slightly Bruised Neck) down.  
Then he grabbed the actual blade with his other hand, and snapped the thing in half.

Springtrap had heard stories of humans running almost supernaturally fast in some competition called the Olympics, but he was pretty sure the competitors weren’t as fast as Dragon Neck was right about then. The human ran, back towards the car park, where Scorpion Hand was presumably waiting. Springtrap heard tyres squeal as they drove off.

He gave the two halves of the knife a look of contempt (or the closest he could manage), then chucked them both in a nearby bin.  _ Good riddance. _

Springtrap had found the Fright’s collection of spare keys a while ago. Technically, they were only for employees, but technically, he did work there, so technically, it wasn’t stealing. And besides, it wasn’t like anyone had noticed in any of the months following.  
Springtrap had carefully removed the keyring, and found a stray wire on the inside of his suit that was already in an odd shape. Lacking pockets, it hadn’t taken long for him to fashion it into a makeshift hook, which he now used it to hang the key on. It didn’t even rattle when he moved, which was lucky. Of course, he had to reach  _ through  _ one of the holes in his suit to get it, which always felt weird, but no solution was perfect.  
It was significantly easier than trying to pick the lock with his not-always-cooperative hands.

He listened, but heard no movement. It was probably clear, but he still peeked in before entering. He was at the entrance, near the office. He would crawl through the vent to get back to his usual place.   
But for now, the office was safe. It couldn’t hurt to stay there for a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I just say something?  
> I wasn't raised to curse- quite the opposite, actually. It doesn't come naturally to me. _At. All._ So I'm not quite sure if the dialogue flows smoothly. If it doesn't: sorry. My bad.
> 
> Also: Springtrap hates knives. For obvious reasons.
> 
> Chica has once again managed to achieve absolutely nothing again.
> 
> Usually when it comes to Freddy's-related crimes, I summarize them as Aaron, murder, and OHSA violations. But the _Golden Memories_ AU does not actually contain arson. So I subbed in manslaughter instead. It. Probably fits?


	24. Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Springtrap travels sideways, Shadow Freddy says an awful lot of nothing, and JJ tries to talk the gang (sans Puppet) out of murder.

Foxy was in the office, his eyepatch lifted up.  
So far he hadn’t seen Springtrap, hidden in a corner, but he felt it was only a matter of time. He had his eye-lights on, cutting through the shadows that sheltered him.  
The entire contents of JJ’s language filter went through Springtrap’s head. But this time, she wouldn’t be able to bail him out. He couldn’t even get a message to her without alerting the other Classic animatronics. He was by the door, but Foxy was so close he’d notice the rabbit. The vents weren’t an option- he would see. Even if he could outrun Foxy, he wouldn’t make it through the halls without running into another. And ducking outside? They’d camp by the doors, and eventually they would get past the lock.  _ Maybe as a last resort. _   
He was pinned. There was no other way out of the office.

He was in the corner behind the desk. There was something on it, something he could barely make out from his vantage point. Something that hadn’t been there before. He squinted, trying to make it out through the thin layer of static constantly covering his vision. Was that a shadow-rabbit?   
He heard the screech that meant Foxy had seen him. The red-furred pirate lunged at him. Springtrap panicked. He didn’t think. He just grabbed the small figurine that looked more like a hole in reality than something with a paint job. And the hole spread, up along his arm, his chest, his face. He turned to see Foxy staring at him with wide eyes before the Void consumed his vision.

***

JJ gave a squawk as Freddy grabbed her by the back of her neck, her feet scrabbling to find purchase as she was lifted up. Freddy turned her to face him and she froze, with a look that Henry would call deer-in-headlights and Freddy would call Bonnie-caught-in-the-kitchen-with-a- _ concerning _ -amount-of-cling-wrap. Whatever it was called, JJ fit the bill. Freddy almost felt bad for her. Almost.

“Alright squirt, we both know this is about. Killer. You know something. Go.” JJ struggled fruitlessly.  
“What- what makes you think I know anything?” Freddy narrowed his eyes.  
“Chica saw you talking to it.” Her eyes flitted to the chicken and then back again.  
“And you trust her word over mine?” her voice was higher pitched than usual, but Freddy thought nothing of it. Then he did a double-take. Was JJ accusing Chica of  _ lying?   
_ “Why would she lie?” Chica jerked a bit; she mustn't have picked up on JJ’s subtext.  
“I don’t know! It’s not like any of you guys like me!” Freddy almost dropped her.  _ What? Why would you think that?!  _ Beside him, Chica gave out a weird, strangled sound. Bonnie poked his nose in.  
“What’s going on?” Freddy rolled his eyes.   
“Chica claims she saw JJ have a conversation with the Killer, JJ claims Chica was lying, the Killer apparently writes poetry, and there’s a fifty-fifty chance it isn't the actual Killer. Also, there were secret rooms in the old locations, and I’m getting a headache,” Freddy summarized, “it’s a mess.”  
“Yikes. By the way, apparently the Killer can vanish into thin air.” Freddy, Chica, and JJ all stared at the lavender animatronic.  
“What?”

***

“I’ was  _ righ’ there,  _ an’ i’ some’ow slipped through me ‘ook! This ink stuff cover’d i’, an’ then i’ just vanish’d! ‘M gon’ ta  _ kill  _ tha’ rabbit! I’ ‘ll dread th’ day i’ thought i’ cou’ ‘scape Foxy th’ Pirate!”  
“I’m sorry, are you sure? Maybe you’re just making-”  
“Bonnie. Shut up.” The red eyes glared at Freddy, but he paid them no heed. In his hand, JJ twisted. He tightened his grip. He sighed.   
“Alright JJ, time to explain.”

***

**Springtrap drifted through the Void, shadows wrapped around his suit. It was taking longer than usual, and he had the terrifying impression that he was being dissolved.  
** **When he finally did find himself back on the stage, the shadows didn’t dissipate. They coated his suit in layers upon layers of dark purple. He moved his arm and felt no resistance. A name drifted to mind: RWQFSFASXC. He was the shadow-rabbit, a being he had never seen, only heard about from JJ.**

**When he looked up, he saw two figures. One was the fake-Spring Bonnie, the Golden Bonnie. The other…  
** **He knew it wasn’t real. He** **_knew_ ** **Fredbear was gone. But the so familiar shape of the head and body, the way the hat perched between the ears, even if it was far darker than it should be.  
** **Springtrap was used to pain- constant** **_throbbing_ ** **where his suit was torn away, the** **_stab_ ** **where a bone prevented his endo from fitting together properly, the** **_gnawing_ ** **from where the top two-thirds of his ear should be. The** **_frustration_ ** **when he couldn’t move properly, the** **_irritation_ ** **when he couldn’t speak, the** **_annoyance_ ** **when the static always clouding his vision was particularly bad. The** **_sting_ ** **of betrayal, the** **_sickening_ ** **feeling whenever a life was taken too soon, the constant** **_exhaustion_ ** **that permeated his entire being.  
** **But none of them hurt as much as the** **_void_ ** **where Fredbear should be.**

**He felt it all the time- he’d turn a corner, expecting to see the golden bear. He’d watch the sky, and forget that he was leaning against an exterior vent. He’d listen to Sam joke, and wait for Fredbear’s laugh.**

**Animatronics couldn’t cry, but strange shadow-beings apparently could. The tears came- for the first time in his long life, and he rested his forehead against the Fredbear and let himself weep.**

***

Seven eyes stared down at JJ- two magenta, two red, two deep blue, and one amber-yellow. She had just finished her detailed explanation as to what, exactly, was going on between her, Springtrap, and Sam (to a lesser extent). Now the larger animatronics had fallen silent, and she just wished someone would say  _ something.  _ The silence was excruciating.

The ever-impatient Bonnie was, as per usual, the one to break it.  
“This isn’t real. It  _ can’t  _ be real. Secret rooms? Springlock suits? The Purple Guy being _maybe_ dead? A  _ pacifist  _ animatronic? Who writes  _ poetry _ ? An entire location open for twenty years  _ we never heard of?!”  _ He shook his head.”There’s no way this is real. It’s too weird  
“Says the guy haunted by the ghost of a murdered child.” JJ deadpanned.  
“There’s a thought,” Freddy offered as Bonnie spluttered, “if the Purple Guy’s dead, presumably where… Springtrap witnessed it- if he didn’t do it himself- then what happened to his ghost? He  _ must  _ have stuck around, and if he was going to haunt anyone, it’d be his old suit. How do we know he isn’t influencing your... friend?”  
“No! He- I- Someone would’ve seen something if that was the case!”  
“I saw his eyes turn purple,” Chica murmured, “wasn’t sure what that meant. But looking back on it…” She filled them in.  
“See? He didn’t hurt any of the kids. Ergo,  _ not a serial killer.”  _ JJ couldn’t believe how stubborn they were acting. They had all the facts, and they still insisted on his being guilty to some degree?  _ Servos and circuits, give me strength…  
_ "Look, wait until he shows up again, and you can ask him."

*******

**_Where do I go?  
_ ** **_What do I do?  
_ ** **Shadow-Spring steeled his heart. It was hard, but he had to do this. Had to finish this. It hurt. He had to do this.  
** **_You're with me.  
_ ** **The Shadow-Bear in the real world had been able to drift through walls, but Shadow-Spring could not do the same in the void. The walls, the ceiling, even under the stage; all solid. He was boxed in. Unless…  
** **He could fly now. He couldn’t go forwards, couldn’t go backwards…  
** **Which only left sideways. He floated away, from the little box that encapsulated what had once been his entire life.**

**He floated into the darkness, and found himself in a green room, with Toy Chica, a crying fake-child, and a cupcake. All three were not solid, though the walls, roof, floor and platforms were.**

**Continuing on, he was suddenly in another room- with purple walls and platforms, an endoskeleton head, and a fake-child running around on the ground. He explored, but found nothing. He was still trapped within the walls, and the wall contained nothing he needed.**

**And then came a very familiar room. A small, circular male animatronic stood on the ground. Seven balloons floated, scattered across five platforms. The walls were a light blue colour. And in the top-left corner, where he had first broken through the boundaries only a few days ago (had time really moved that swiftly? It felt like longer), was a break in the solidity of the wall.  
** **He slipped through. He looked around, and behind, from the exterior of the walls, but there was nothing. So he pressed forwards once more (or was it still sideways?), and came to a place where the room was a purple box, the Void was striped with white, black, grey, and lilac, and there was a small ghost-child in near the bottom corner.**

**How many times had he done this? This would be the fourth. It felt like more. He gave the little ghost their cake.**

**Everything faded to white,** and then he was standing on the stage in what had once been Fredbear’s Family Diner, back as it  _ had been  _ in its prime. Springtrap (or was he just Bonnie again?) was clutching his old guitar- something that he hadn’t seen in decades, something he’d never see in reality again- and he felt his nonexistent heart beat in his chest. The room was exactly like it had once been, and for a single, dizzying moment, he wondered if he had simply dreamed the events of the last forty years.  
Then he turned to the right. And the illusion shattered when he saw the Shadow-Bear standing where his Fredbear would be. It was watching him.

**You have done well.  
** _ “Um,  _ thanks, I think. Though I didn’t really do much...”  
**No? The children are closer to peace than ever, because of you.  
** “Is that what this is about? Freeing the children?”  
**Are you upset?  
** “No, of course not! I’d never-”  
**Of course not. You do not have the connection to your ghost the others have to theirs.  
** “You mean Afton? You’re the reason for that, I recall.”  
**It was for the best.  
** “No kidding.”

They lapsed back into silence for a moment.  
“So, this place… is it real?”  
**In a fashion. It was created from your memories of what is gone.  
** “So… if Fredbear isn’t here…”  
**He is unreachable.  
** “Where?”  
**I cannot tell you.  
** “You don’t know, do you.”  
The Shadow-Bear was silent, telling Springtrap all he needed to know.

“Why are we here?”  
**We cannot return you just yet. Not while there are...witnesses.  
** “Foxy saw me enter the void this time.”  
**Irrelevant.  
** “How am  _ I  _ supposed to know what is and isn’t relevant with you people?”  
**You are angry?  
** “No. More...irritated. Upset,” He thought about it, “you really don’t know where Fredbear is? No clues?” The other animatronics wouldn’t like their voices  _ vulnerable  _ all of a sudden, but Springtrap wasn’t like them.  _ Don’t let your feelings bottle up, because the bottle will always crack.  
_ **Well…  
** “What?” the Shadow-Bear hesitated a moment.

_**Bound by the shadows,  
** **Trapped in the dark.  
** **Bloodstains still linger,  
** **It drips to the heart.** _

“What does that  _ mean?”  
_ **Look to what remains.  
** “That doesn’t explain anything!”  
**It is time for you to go.  
** “Wait-”  
 **There is a certain item you must claim for yourself, if you have the strength.**  
The world once again faded to white.  


***

Bonnie suddenly paused at the exit. Chica was the only one to notice.  
“What is it?” the lavender rabbit blinked, then shook his head.  
“Nothing. I just felt...nevermind.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now I remember why I don't like writing Foxy- because I insist upon overdoing the accent far more than necessary, and it's very annoying.
> 
> Oh look, one of the classic animatronics is using Springtrap's actual name and pronouns, instead of just calling him 'it' all the time.
> 
> 90% of Springtrap's problems boil down to 'once again, good communication fails to save the day'. 100% of Springtrap's problems boil down to 'i's Williams fault'. Actually, that probably applies to everyone.
> 
> We're in the home stretch! There's just Happiest Day, a conversation with the Classic animatronics, the Puppet actually making an appearance, and some stuff involving Sam and a certain pair of humans.


	25. Puppet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Freddy is grumpy, Bonnie is impatient, Springtrap is dragged around, the Puppet attempts murder, and everyone in general has a bad day.

Springtrap was still standing, back in the office. His hands were both braced against Sam’s desk, and his notebook was open to the poem he’d written. Had someone read it? That was private!  
Granted, the concept of personal space seemed to be ignored by… literally everyone, actually. Except Sam. But he was human. He had a life outside the attraction. So it didn’t really count.  
He wondered who’d flipped through it, though. 

_ Bound by the shadows,  
_ _ Trapped in the dark.  
_ _ Bloodstains still linger,  
_ _ It drips to the heart. _

_ Look to what remains. _

He wrote it down, hoping that he’d have an easier time figuring it out if he could see it all at once.   
Nope.  
Maybe he just needed time for new information to reveal itself.

Then Freddy entered the room. Springtrap instinctively froze, standing in plain sight. Deep blue eyes met faded silver. Freddy seemed just as surprised as Springtrap. Why was that? Maybe it was because Spring had managed to avoid them so effectively. Maybe it was because he hadn’t expected to walk in on the ‘Killer’ having a minor existential crisis. Maybe it was some other reason. He didn’t know. There were many things he didn’t know.

“Grab your notebook,” Freddy ordered him gruffly, “JJ’s vouching for you. For some reason.”

Springtrap loved that little ‘bot.

***

Freddy had been caught off guard, frankly. Springtrap had proved to be elusive- the last few months had proven that. So to walk in on him, totally unguarded… it was surprising. And slightly disappointing.  
He watched as the rabbit picked up the notebook and clipped the pen to the spiral spine. Freddy left the room, only to find Springtrap (not a suspicious name  _ at all _ ) had paused, and was glancing back at the box containing the Toys’ heads.   
“What?” Freddy snapped, irritated, “it’s tempting enough to tear you to pieces right now, rabbit. Don’t push your luck,” Springtrap hesitated, then darted for the box and pulled something out. Freddy caught a flash of purple before he concealed it inside his shredded torso.  
“What is that.” Springtrap just shook his head.  
“Hand it over, rabbit!” He glanced back at Freddy, not really meeting the bear’s gaze. He looked… scared? Frightened? He wasn’t sure. The rabbit didn’t have much in the way of facial expressions.   
“Fine. Keep your secrets. But that better not be a weapon.” Springtrap shook his head again.

***

Servos and springlocks, he was dead. He was so,  _ so  _ dead. Maybe he could slip away? Would that make him seem guilty? Maybe he should slip away.

As if reading his mind, Freddy reached back and grabbed his wrist.  
“Don’t think you can run and hide this time,” he growled. Springtrap pressed his free hand on the place where, under his chest, where the human heart would be, he’d tucked Fredbear’s microphone. It was comforting, having it with him. Carrying a piece of Fredbear with him, the only piece he had left. He stopped.  _ Look to what remains…  
_ Freddy yanked him forward with a snarl, “Keep moving!” Springtrap reluctantly let himself be dragged along. He’d figure it out later.  
If he survived.

***

Freddy didn’t get what was up with this rabbit. He’d been impossible to get more than a glimpse of for months, always three steps ahead, always just barely out of reach. And now that he’d actually  _ caught  _ him, he was just going along with it. Why wasn’t he struggling? Where was the fight? Hell, even  _ JJ  _ had resisted when he’d grabbed her. But Springtrap? Nothing. Not even the slightest attempt. Sure, he’d stopped once, but that seemed to be for some other, unrelated reason. There was no fire at all.  


If he was dragging anyone else around by the wrist, there would have been loud complaining and angry looks at the very least. Probably some struggling, almost-cussing,  _ something.  _ Springtap was just following, albeit slowly (Freddy was fully aware the rabbit could be fast if he needed to).

This was the first time Freddy had actually gotten a chance to  _ look  _ at the rabbit, though. Even from scattered glimpses from a distance, Springtrap had clearly been in poor condition. Up close, it was even worse.

He walked with a heavy limp, both legs clearly damaged. The exposed metal of his feet made a sound as they connected with the ceramic tiles, but it was far quieter than Foxy’s had been back in the eighties. No doubt that was how he moved so quietly when he wanted to, though Freddy did wonder. How was he so quiet? He was an animatronic similar in size to Freddy, so he should have a similar weight, and therefore have a tread to match. As for the rest of him…  
The suit was torn, and stained to the point any evidence of Springtrap once being yellow was gone. The endoskeleton underneath was clearly visible through the tattered plush, coated in a thick layer of rust and suspicious patches reminiscent of blood. There was something pale peeking through one crack in the metal, but Freddy couldn’t begin to guess what it was. Wires hung at odd angles, there was  _ something  _ weird clinging to the endo in his chest, and he wore a strip of fabric around his mouth clearly torn from an old curtain.  
Not to mention his movement, being far closer to that of a human’s than any other animatronic.

It was a bizarre bundle of traits that Freddy felt didn’t quite fit together. Springtrap was so unlike any other animatronic.   
Freddy knew, logically, that he was running on some combination of internal programming, genuine personality, emotion and logic. Just like everyone else. But the inner workings were strange and complicated and  _ different.   
_ “What is with you?” Springtrap just looked at him and cocked his head. “Seriously? No struggle? No fight? Where’s your fire, rabbit? You’re supposed to be a Bonnie! Both Bonnie and Blue would never go down quietly!” Springtrap just adjusted his grip on the notebook and looked Freddy squarely in the eye. What did that mean? Maybe several things. What went through that rabbit’s mind?

***

Where was Springrap’s fire?  
It was there, of course.  
Springtrap had seen the damage uncontrolled anger could do. He had seen humans- children, night guards- and it was always bloody. It ripped families apart. Only once had it not ended in death, but that guard would never have been the same again.   
So he kept careful control of his flames. He was careful to let little escape. He doused the fire frequently, with facts and logic or with emotion and empathy. Whichever was more effective. He always tried to keep his facts straight, to never assume. And he wasn’t a killer. It wasn’t in his nature like it was in the others’.

There was a different type of fire he had though- his affection for Sam, and for JJ; his love for Fredbear. That fire always burned bright, but it was a very different kind than the one Freddy meant- the one Freddy could recognize.  
Whatever. It wasn’t anyone else’s business. He didn’t want Freddy to understand. He just wanted a minimum of basic respect, and to not be treated like a criminal. Was that so much to ask?  
Apparently it was.

Springtrap calmly followed Freddy, absently tracking the number of times the bear glanced back at him, and his expression. He’d count the time between, too, if he still had an internal clock. Angry, irritated, slightly curious but trying to hide it, irritated, irritated again, glaring at Spring’s arm.  _ Seriously? What is this bear’s problem? _

“Bonnie,” Freddy started when they entered the room the rabbit was in, “can you watch this while I go round up everyone else?”  
“Sure.”  
Springtrap wasn’t as disgruntled about being referred to as an object as he probably should have been. Probably because  _ he  _ had referred to him as an object.

Bonnie grabbed Springtrap’s upper left arm, which was far more manageable for him to maneuver the notebook so it was open to the first blank page on his left forearm, and write with the pen in his right. Bonnie’s hold tightened, but he didn’t stop him.  
_ What’s going on?  
_ “What makes  _ you  _ think  _ anything’s  _ going on?” Bonnie was hostile, accusing.   
_ The fact that Freddy insists on dragging me around. Because neither he nor you have tried to rip my head off yet. Because he has gone to retrieve others. Chica and Foxy, I presume? Perhaps the Puppet as well?  
_ _ Because Freddy said JJ was vouching for me. Because of the tapes. Because the shadow-spirits have not interfered again-not yet, at least. I’ve spent enough time in the dark to recognize when it’s happening again, Bonnie. Freddy did not explain anything, but you both clearly know what’s going on. So could you please enlighten me?  
_ “You’re too smart for your own good,” Bonnie muttered, then: “JJ thinks you’re innocent. Chica saw you two hanging out. Chica  _ also  _ saw your eyes turn purple. JJ thinks she’s lying. Freddy and Chica think you might be innocent and should be given a chance, and JJ trusts you completely, but personally Foxy and I think we should just tear you to pieces and be done with it.”  
_ When did my eyes turn purple? And what does the Puppet think?  
_ “Dunno. Ask Chica. And Puppet… doesn’t actually know. Yet.”  
_ She’s not going to be happy you kept her in the dark.  
_ “Probably not. But why do  _ you _ care?!”  
_ I could explain, but you would not understand.  
_ Bonnie just glared at him.

***

Springtrap was half-tempted to call Bonnie his ‘little brother’, but he suspected that wouldn’t go down well. They waited in an odd imitation of silence, in which Springtrap just stood still and Bonnie kept fidgeting. He really wasn’t a patient bunny.  
Admittedly, there had been a time when Springtrap hadn’t been much better- but twenty years performing, ten years being dragged around various locations, and thirty years sealed away had changed him. He wondered if he was still recognizable as the naїve, ever-optimistic golden rabbit he’d once been.  
The fact that was even in question stung.

“Rrrrrgh. What’s taking him so long?” Bonnie muttered. His foot tapped, his ears twitched, his free hand tapped out a rhythm. He fidgeted. He adjusted his grip. 

Foxy stepped into the room, looking nervous.  
“Foxy! What’s taking so long?”  
“Puppet.” The pirate replied. “She ain't happy, Bon. Ol’ Fred wants me ter ‘elp ye wit’  _ that _ .”  
Springtrap suspected that that was more because Foxy was being unhelpful with whatever they were trying to do with the Puppet, and less because Freddy was genuinely concerned he’d make a run for it.   
_ What are they trying to do with the Puppet?  
_ Foxy glared at him. Springtrap just met his eye and slowly blinked in response. He did his best to look unfazed- the others tended to consider showing fear to be weakness, although Springtrap felt differently.  
Looking unfazed was much easier when your eyelids had about four different positions each and your mouth didn’t move at all.  
He tapped the question again.

“‘Cause JJ thinks yer ‘armless- fer  _ some  _ reason- Chica and Freddy are tryn’ ter convince ol’ Pupper ter ‘ear yer out. Person’ly, I’d rather jus’ kill ye an’ be done wit’ it-”  
“-Thank you,” Bonnie muttered.  
“Freddy’s made it  _ very  _ clear tha’ yer gonna get a chance to explain yerself first. Bu’ th’ Puppet’s wit’ me an’ Bon on this one. ‘An  _ she  _ don’t follow Freddy like the rest o’ us.”  
Springtrap stayed silent. He’d always known the Puppet was going to be the hardest to convince- Foxy wasn’t exactly telling him anything new there- but he worried that his luck would run out when it came to her. It probably would. 

_ I’m the only one who truly knows who ‘Golden Freddy’ was, though... And the true identity of the killer.  _ Springtrap remembered. He knew the Puppet desperately wanted to learn more about him, so maybe if he had to, he could use it to barter for his life…  
Maybe, if it would work. Springtrap could probably write a three-page essay on Fredbear’s eyes if he wanted to.  
Depended on whether learning more about ‘Golden Freddy’ or tearing him to pieces, he supposed.

***

Chica and Freddy chased after the Puppet as she tore through the halls, searching for Springtrap. She was far faster than either of them, but they were close enough to see when she first hit the green rabbit. Bonnie’s grip had loosened from the shock, and Springtrap had been bowled over from the Puppet’s attack. They rolled, and the Puppet was on top, clawing at his eyes. Springtrap was shielding them- he’d dropped his pen and notebook when they first collided- in a desperate attempt to prevent her from doing any major damage.

**Well this is entertaining.  
** Chica jumped as Shadow Bonnie (what had JJ called him? RWQ?) suddenly materialized near the ceiling. Springtrap stared up at him for a moment, still clutching the Puppet’s hands. He made a strange noise.  
**Seriously Springtrap, language! What would the children think?  
** He made an odd gurgling sound.  
**That’s neither here nor there.  
** Another gurgle.  
**My my, you** **_are_ ** **foul-mouthed today!  
** He made a much longer sound that sounded more like an imitation of a drowning crow.  
**Well, no need to be so sarcastic, mister. What pissed** **_you_ ** **off, I wonder?  
** Chica was pretty sure the expression Springtrap gave him was a deadpan, but it was honestly impossible to tell.  
Shadow Freddy suddenly popped into existence next to him.  
**RWQ…  
** **Yes?  
** **Stop tormenting the rabbit.  
** **You’re no fun.  
** **Puppet?  
** She hissed at the purple bear.  
**Stop tormenting the rabbit.  
** “And  _ why  _ would I listen to  _ you? _ ”  
**Because,** Shadow Freddy said as the Puppet was slowly levitated up into the air, all four limbs flailing,  **he’s needed. And also, you are being, as Springtrap so eloquently called RWQ earlier, an asshole.  
** The Puppet’s glare was usually enough to get even the likes of Freddy to back down, but the purple bear was unfazed.   
“Needed for  _ what? _ ”  
**Nunya.  
** Chica had never seen the Puppet so angry before. Even though the fury wasn’t directed at her, she still took a couple steps back. Freddy looked nervous, Bonnie had backed up, and even Foxy, who tried to be a ’tough guy’ at all times, was visibly tense.  
The Puppet managed to break out of whatever supernatural grip held her and  _ launched  _ straight at Shadow Freddy. She went straight through him, hit the ceiling, and fell back to the floor. She hissed, turned, and launched at Springtrap, who had managed to sit up but was still on the ground. The larger animatronic grunted as she hit him again. Chica winced in sympathy. The Puppet was surprisingly strong for something that looked so frail.   
...Huh. Springtrap seemed to be the opposite, actually. Looked very dangerous and intimidating, physically quite weak. Strange.

**What part of “don’t beat up the rabbit” wasn’t clear?!** RWQ demanded. The Puppet was levitated away, and Chica watched as Springtrap struggled to get to his feet. He was relying on the shelf above him. Was something wrong with his legs? Should she help? Maybe she should help. Or maybe she should not risk angering the Puppet even further. The Shadows were incorporeal, but that didn’t apply to the rest of them.

Springtrap grunted and tried to maneuver his legs. They didn’t seem to be able to bend properly. Chica felt slightly sorry for him. There were more tears from where the Puppet had attacked him, and he kept glancing over at the black animatronic nervously. He was clearly scared, and Chica couldn’t blame him. She decided to edge closer.

***

_ Stupid- goddamn- legs! Why do you have to be like this?  
_ Springtrap’s knees had been unable to bend past about ninety degrees for ages now, but it was particularly frustrating while there was an animatronic  _ actively trying to rip his face off  _ (Spring had a pretty good idea what was under there, and he  _ really  _ didn’t want any of them to see it). It didn’t impact his walking too much, but standing and sitting? It wasn’t impossible, but it was far harder than it had to be.

He wanted to run- every bone in his body (he actually did have those) was telling him to run, to slip away in the chaos. But first he needed to  _ stand.   
_ Suddenly, Cica was there (when did she get there?), offering her hand. Springtrap gratefully took it, and gave her a nod after she helped haul him to his feet. It was the closest he could get to a ‘thank you’. 

He was heading towards the door, watching as RWQ bounced the Puppet up and down like a yo-yo (the shadow-rabbit was cackling like a maniac, the Puppet was screaming elaborate death threats, and the shadow-bear and Freddy shared the same expression Henry had gotten when a migraine was coming on), when the Puppet suddenly grabbed JJ by the leg. Everyone froze.  
“ _ If _ you don’t want her to get killed” the puppet would have said through gritted teeth if she had any, “then. Stop. Your.  _ INTERFERING.” _

The worst thing was, Springtrap believed her. This was the animatronic who accused each and every night guard of murder. This was the animatronic built to protect children and took it too far. This was the fastest, nastiest, most merciless animatronic built by Henry. She absolutely would tear up an animatronic she always viewed as worthless to get to the one she thought of as a child killer.

Springtrap’s method for de-escalating situations was always talking. He was calm and reasonable, he was gentle and empathetic, he was a realist, he was an optimist. Whatever worked. But his voice was gone. His notebook was behind Foxy, but the pirate didn’t notice, and if he did, he wouldn’t have the thought to toss it to him. The pen had rolled elsewhere. Morse Code was too slow, and the Puppet wouldn’t listen anyway. The only two who understood him, the shadow-spirits, weren’t massively helpful.  
He was silenced.   
_ Think outside the box. Where there’s a will, there’s a way.   
_ _ Where there’s a Will… _

He still had one last paint. He still had one last brush. He still had one last canvas.  
He just needed to make it count.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, this confrontation was going to happen _after_ Happiest Day. And then the robots decided not. And I am at the mercy of the gay robots. Although Spring is the only one who's definitely gay. I'm not sure about everyone else.
> 
> 'Language'- what the hell are you talking about RWQ, the most he called you was an asshole. Just because he's usually too polite and courteous, doesn't mean he can't calling you out.
> 
> Speaking of Spring: damn, poor boy's getting a beating. Who would do that to him? Somebody should stop that (I say, while being the author, and then proceeding to Not Do Anything About That).
> 
> Also, Puppet, if you put _one_ scratch on JJ, I swear to god-


	26. Voice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which JJ saves the day, the Puppet finally sees the writing on the wall, and William Afton does something useful for the first time in his existence.

Springtrap had blood on his hands.  
Specifically, it was only really one finger.  
Specifically, it was more a mixture of blood, rotting flesh, and whatever other bodily fluids lingered in William Afton’s partially mummified decomposing head and was accessible via Springtrap’s mouth, without opening said mouth to the point where someone would notice said partially mummified decomposing head.

Springtrap spun on his heel, faster than he probably should have considering how his knee was feeling, but whatever. His leg would have to handle it. JJ’s life was more important. He started to scrawl frantically on the wall.

The Puppet stepped towards him, once, then again, slowly, slowly, like a cat stalking her prey.  
“I'm not going to bother reading your lies,” she hissed. Her voice was low, menacing, filled with anger and hatred.  
“You’re the killer, plain and simple. You took the lives of eleven innocent children, tore them from their families, and you trapped them here. They can’t even rest, move on because of  _ you.  
_ “Susie, Gabriel, Fritz- all of them are dead because of  _ you _ . Because you, for some  _ twisted  _ reason, decided those innocent children needed to  _ die.  _ Why? Were you jealous of our success? Do you have some hatred of Golden Freddy? Was it because some dark part of your mind grew and spread when you were retired, until it took over your being? Or was it something else?”  
Springtrap’s mouth opened slightly, as if to reply, even though no words would ever come out. He was stunned. Not only was the Puppet ignoring his last, desperate writing, not only was she holding him responsible for the deaths of the children, but she had implied he had some problem with Golden Freddy. With Fredbear.  _ His  _ Fredbear. The  _ nerve.   
_ And he was silenced. If she wouldn’t read his words, his sole method of communication, he was doomed. And so was JJ.

  


***

  


JJ was  _ not  _ having a good day.  
First, she’d been threatened by Freddy to tell the four Classic animatronics about Springtrap. Then, Springtrap had vanished, allegedly into thin air. Then, Springtrap had reappeared, and Freddy had caught him. Then, the Puppet had found out about Springtrap and gone for him. Now, she was a hostage so that the Puppet could take her friend down.  
And she didn’t doubt she’d be willing to go through JJ if she had to.  Not for the first time, she wished she’d been built differently- stronger, faster, full-size instead of only being a few feet,  _ something _ . She hated being at the mercy of so many animatronics- even if they usually wouldn’t hurt her. And then the kids- the number of times she’d been kicked by some asshole. There was a reason she kept hiding under the guards’ desk.  
But JJ wasn’t going to go down that easily. Sure, the Puppet was far bigger, stronger and faster than her. Sure, she was dangling upside down by her ankle. Sure, she was small, ignored, overlooked.  
Springtrap was a watcher, a listener. He was mute. But she wasn’t. And she could be fairly loud when she wanted to.  
She scanned the wall, flipped it upright in her mind. Springtrap was mute. So JJ would be his voice.

_ “Puppet,” _ JJ declared loudly, ignoring the angry hiss from the animatronic holding her.  _ “I- Springtrap is an old animatronic, even by our standards. I- he performed for twenty years, was dragged around assorted locations for ten, and then sealed away inside a wall for another thirty, before those who work for the Fright found him again. He has seen many things. The good, the bad, the bloody...”  
_ The Puppet growled, tried to cover JJ’s eyes, her mouth, but JJ had a photographic memory like every other animatronic, and her voicebox was not restricted by her mouth. So she kept reading, kept going, only changing the pronouns used, leaving everything else.

_ “...He was the suit; the costume the Man Behind the Slaughter wore, as he lured ten of his twelve victims to their fate. He was the suit; unable to speak, to move, to so much as twitch an ear, let alone save them. And it hurt. Every time he bought his blade down on another innocent, every time blood spread across the floor, he wanted to scream, to cry, to mourn-”  
_ JJ let out a cry as she was flung across the room, straight into Foxy’s face. She kept going as Foxy caught her, turned her upright, a confused and slightly worried expression on his face.

_ “...And then he'd take him off, leave him in the corner of the room, still, useless, left to suffer in silence, and to dread the day he would return. Eventually, the location would shut down, and he would be taken, and stored in another room, another Safe Room, away from the maps of the younger animatronics, away from the security cameras, away from any help.”   
_ Here JJ hesitated, nervous about the pure distilled anger and contempt held in the Puppet’s gaze. Then she kept going. Springtrap was, ironically, the most eloquent animatronic in the room. JJ trusted him completely.

“ _ Puppet, we could spend all day going over what happened, how he felt, but we know you wouldn’t listen. You aren’t a sympathetic being; frankly, you’re an ass. But petty insults aside, you won’t believe us unless I bring some sort of basic logic to the table, something you inexplicably missed- or more likely ignored, in favour of the ridiculous narrative you’ve convinced yourself is the truth.  
_ _ “And so we ask you this: how would Springtrap, a very much _ not  _ waterproof animatronic _ ,  _ kill Charlotte Emily in the _ rain?”

JJ had heard the story before- second-hand, from Freddy, because the Puppet wouldn’t talk about it, but still. Something about how a child she’d been watching had wound up locked outside, and by the time the Puppet, short-circuiting from the rain, had found her, she’d been murdered.   
Then she’d shut down from water damage. 

Springtrap had a definite point- JJ didn’t know of  _ any  _ waterproof animatronics. They were built to live, perform, and spend their entire lives indoors, in whatever pizzeria, diner or similar place they were built for. And hadn’t the tapes explicitly stated that moisture was a problem for springlocks?  
They were taking a risk, though- reminding the Puppet of her ‘failure’ was always a massive risk. She was already angered: pissing her off even more was  _ not  _ a good idea.

The Puppet’s eyes narrowed until JJ almost couldn’t see them anymore. She picked JJ up again, this time by the back of her neck- who thought it would be a good idea to give her  _ claws-  _ and unceremoniously chucked her toward Springtrap. The green rabbit caught her awkwardly, and turned her back around to face outwards.  
“I’m guessing I don’t want to know what that stuff is?” JJ muttered to her friend. Springtrap shook his head. 

  


***

  


Springtrap was displaying remarkable self-restraint. First, he hadn’t punched the Puppet in the face for threatening his friend’s life. Then, he hadn’t punched the Puppet in the face for implying he had a problem with the golden bear. Now, he wasn’t squeezing the life out of JJ in a hug.   
That brave robot. That beautiful, brave, mildly suicidal robot. Springtrap loved her. He couldn’t ask for a better friend. He wasn’t sure how he felt about her being his voice instead of her own, but in the moment, it was exactly what he needed.

The Puppet didn’t seem convinced of Springtrap’s innocence- she was glaring at him quite intensely, actually- so he stuck his finger in his mouth again and started writing, still holding JJ with his other arm.  
_ The Man Behind the Slaughter was a human. One with much sway in the company, one who was not what he seemed. One who I once trusted, before he drew the knife. A monster, who relished blood, but hid his twisted addiction so well he was never suspected. Someone who had children of his own, one of which may very well still live, and who deserves to live free of his father’s curse, which is why I will not tell you his name. Someone long gone. It does not matter. He’s dead. The children are safe from him. Isn’t that what you want?  
_ JJ read it out as he wrote, changing the pronouns, leaving the rest. Doing what he couldn’t.  
He had never been more grateful for her friendship.

The Puppet hadn’t moved. She was watching him, contemplating her next move, like a human hunting deer.  
Springtrap  _ really  _ wished he hadn’t thought of that specific simile.

  


***

  


Bonnie was going slightly crazy. Springtrap, JJ, and the Puppet were all perfectly still, eyeing each other warily.  
_ Just  _ do  _ something!  
_ Bonnie knew he was impatient. He knew he couldn’t stay still for long. But this time, especially, with so much tension in the air, the stillness was stifling.

  


***

  


Freddy had watched the confrontation quietly, but it was the strangest one he had ever seen. Not only was  _ JJ  _ facing down the Puppet- something he wouldn’t dare to- for the sake of a highly damaged animatronic, but it was actually  _ working.  _ Or at least, the Puppet hadn’t made a move since flinging the poor animatronic halfway across the room. 

And the way Springtrap was cradling JJ spoke volumes.  
Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all.

  


***

  


If Foxy had a tail, it would be lashing right now. As it was, he was even twitchier than Bonnie, and his time it wasn’t because his control fuses were malfunctioning.  
But he didn’t dare interrupt.

Freddy put a hand on his shoulder.

  


***

  


Chica blinked. This was getting far more intense than she was expecting. Honestly, she’d expected this to be pretty one-sided; the Puppet would find Springtrap, tear him to pieces, and then they’d move on. Maybe JJ would be upset, but she’d manage.

Springtrap scrawled on the wall again. He was running out of space, but he managed to get another paragraph out of it.

  


***

  


_ He suffered a full-body springlock failure, if you must know. His skin was lacerated, his bones were crushed, his eyes were forced too far into the skull until they were crushed, and his lungs filled up with his own blood until he drowned in it. It took hours. Is that brutal enough for you? _

Still holding JJ, Springtrap left the room, leaving the Puppet behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter...God, this chapter.
> 
> It did not want to be written. At. All.  
> Or, more accurately, it did, but only once.
> 
> See this chapter was written twice, which I normally don't do; I just write, and then post whatever comes out after some minor Grammarly-related shenanigans (it really hates whenever I use commas). But the original chapter for voice... I wasn't happy with it. In the original chapter, _Springtrap_ was the one talking (thanks to the Shadows), and it frankly felt like a cop-out. I didn't like it. Springtrap being physically mute is kind of an important part of the plot, so I can't just ignore it when I feel like it. 
> 
> So anyway, I wrote this instead. And while I'm not entirely happy with it, it's better, in my opinion.  
> If you're wondering what Spring said, I copy-pasted 99% of it into his wall-based lecture.  
> Maybe I'll post the original chap in _Golden Glitter._
> 
> Anyway, the Puppet's an impulsive idiot, Springtrap could run verbal rings around her, and the Balloon Kids deserve more love. Thanks for coming to my TED Talk.


	27. Ghosts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Springtrap somehow avoids Death By Rain, and finally finishes his task.

There was still something he needed to do, but unlike before, he had no idea how to get there.  
As it turned out, he didn’t need to. 

Feeling another knee failure come on (he was going to have even more of those in future, wasn’t he), he leaned against the wall. Specifically, against a poster of the Puppet (crap, he’d left his notebook behind. He’d have to retrieve it later).  
He was not prepared for his elbow to phase through the thing.  
He pulled back in surprise, his weight landing on his less-good leg- ow- and then he tried touching it. His hand not only went through the poster, but presumably the wall behind it as well.  
As if the day hadn’t been stressful enough.  
“Springtrap? What is it?”  
_ Do I do this now, or come back later?  
_ Springtrap considered for a moment.  
_ May as well get it over with,  _ he decided.  
He fell back on the old Morse Code strategy. He’d had enough of writing on walls with serial killer blood for one day.  
_ KEEP GOING JJ JUST NEED TO CHECK SOMETHING.  
_ He waited until he was gone, then started investigating the poster.

Most animals followed a general rule; if you can get your shoulders through a gap, you can fit. That rule also applied to some other beings. Like animatronics, for example.  
The poster was  _ not  _ big enough for Springtrap’s shoulders, and it was also halfway up the wall, but he somehow managed to get through anyway. He found himself falling-  _ actually  _ falling, he could feel the air around his suit- until he landed, with a very ungraceful noise, on his back in what seemed to be a back alley. It was raining.  
_ Servos, circuits and springlocks, that’s the last time I’m jumping through a poster head-first. _ He slowly managed to pick himself up, noticing that he was still the ‘corpserabbit’ from the Fright. Strangely, despite the rain, he wasn’t short-circuiting to high heaven. He was, however, soaked. Was this how humans felt when they were out during bad weather?

He glanced up. It was night, but the clouds were obscuring the stars. He felt a slight pang about that, but he had to keep going. No point in getting wrapped up in the past now.

Although, now that he looked around, he knew that he already was. He had never stepped outside of Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria, but he was here, in the back alley used for deliveries.   
There were no deliveries. There was, however, a ghost.  
Like the others, she was pale and featureless, with hollow eye sockets dripping an ink-like liquid. Like the others, she floated silently.  
Unlike the others, she wasn’t crying. Not the same way the other ghosts had. She was watching him.  
Somehow, Springtrap knew this was Charlotte Emily.

“Charlie?” he said, softly. Somehow, his voice was functioning, She glanced up at him, but stayed silent. Springtrap was mute, and normally he’d be thrilled to have his voice, but he felt lost for words.   
“Hey. You okay?” She shook her head, and Springtrap mentally kicked himself. She’d been dead for forty years, and was being comforted by an animatronic with the corpse of her killer trapped inside.  _ Nobody  _ would be okay in her situation.  
“Do you want to talk about it?” He kept his voice soft, gentle, like he always had when comforting a scared or upset child.   
_ “They’re waiting for me,” _ she murmured,  _ “they won’t go without me. But it’s scary.”  
_ “I can’t blame you for being scared. Nobody can. You’re on the cusp of the unknown. I’d be scared too.” He crouched down (his knees were working as intended, much like his voice; it honestly felt like his endo had been completely repaired, but his suit left as it was, if it wasn’t for the fact he could  _ feel  _ the bones and so on still inside him) and took her hand.  
“It’s okay to be scared. Everyone is, at some point or another. You just have to keep going.”  
_ “I guess...”  _ Stars and sparks, she sounded so  _ miserable _ . Springtrap desperately wanted to give her a hug, but he wasn’t sure how she’d take it.

“Charlie.” She looked up at him. “It’s  _ okay.  _ Nobody’s pushing you to move on if you aren’t ready. The Puppet has Hosted you for forty years, she won’t be bothered if you want to stay a little longer. But, hey. It’s a journey every living being will have to make one day, if they haven’t already. A well-worn path. You  _ will  _ be fine. And the others will go with you, won’t they? You won't be alone.” Charlie stared up at him. Then she floated closer, curling up against his chest. She was so  _ small,  _ and Springtrap grieved for the decades that should have been her future. She would have been a fine young woman, with her father’s intelligence and her mother’s common sense.

***

_ “What do they call you now? Puppet doesn’t know. Are you still called Spring Bonnie?”  
_ “No. The humans at the Fright named me Springtrap Corpserabbit, and I wear the name.”  
_ “It doesn’t bother you? Having a scary name?”  _ Springtrap sighed.  
“No. The thing is, I’ve never had a name I felt truly fit before it. I can’t be Bonnie any more; the Classic model has taken that name, and he is welcome to have it. Spring Bonnie was the name the Man Behind the Slaughter used; I never truly referred to myself with it. Some employees called me Golden Bonnie, to fit with the whispers of a Golden Freddy, but that was never truly a name either, although I suppose I could have gotten used to it eventually. But Springtrap? It lets me keep my past, and it lets me have a future. Sure, it’s a little odd, but I don’t mind. I kind of like it. It’s unique.”  
_ “Oh, okay.” _

***

_ “Springtrap?"  
_ “Mmmm?” Charlie was nervous, he could tell. She hadn’t moved from where she was curled up in his lap, but he could feel her tension.  
_ "I- I want to go. But I’m scared. But you’re right, I won’t be alone. But… If daddy’s not already dead…  
_ “I’ll tell him what happened to you.”  
_ “Thank you. Do you think- do you think he’d be proud of me? Be honest.”  
_ Springteap thought about it for a moment.  _ Be honest.  _ So he was.  
“I think he already is.”

***

Springtrap watched as Charlie entered the pizzeria. She was such a brave little soul; she was scared, yes, but she kept going. She clutched the cake Springtrap had given to the others- it had just showed up in his hands again, so of course he gave it to her- and she wore the mask of the Puppet. There were five other ghost-children around the centre table, and unlike before, each one wore masks- of Bonnie and Foxy, Freddy and Chica. And-  
God. He hadn’t realized where Cassidy had been hidden. Like Charlie, she had gotten too suspicious. Too close to the truth. After luring and killing her in his usual way, William had taken her body away.  
He hadn’t realized where he’d hidden it. But seeing her now, the too-large golden mask on her face…  
Golden Freddy had always been strange. Disappearing, reappearing, he looked like Freddy dipped in yellow paint more than his Fredbear. Springtrap had always assumed it was some lingering piece of his boyfriend’s soul; a gleaming golden echo of the past.  
But maybe it was Cassidy’s soul instead. Maybe Fredbear and Golden Freddy weren’t one and the same, as he had believed.  
He needed to give it more thought.

Charlie placed the cake on the table, the six children standing in a ring. It felt slightly strange; Springtrap knew of six other murders, but maybe they had already moved on. Or maybe he would one day find them too. He sighed. So much to think about.

The children slowly faded away, their masks falling to the floor. Foxy first- no, Fritz, then Susie, Gabriel, and Jeremy. Cassidy glanced back towards him before slowly vanishing, and for one, single moment, Charlotte Emily was all that remained, floating among the empty masks.   
Then her eyes closed, and she too was gone.

***

Freddy felt it happen. They all did, of course. It felt very strange, the rush of emotions as the children finally moved on, and then they were gone.  
He felt almost empty- he had gotten so used to the constant stream of emotions from Gabriel, and suddenly the only voice in his head was his own. The only emotions he felt was his own.  
Forty years they had Hosted the children. Only the first few months of life they had been without the ghosts. Sure, the kids had fallen dormant sometimes, but they had always been  _ there.  
_ He wondered what had prompted them to move on so suddenly. Last week, he had been the same as usual. Now he was just… gone. Like that. With no warning.

He was happy for them, of course. But it was… strange.  
They would need time to get used to the new normal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Stares at the Doc is silence.*  
> Seriously? This is what we're doing now? "Oh, let's give Rayvee hell writing one chapter, and then bang out the next in like twenty minutes." Yes, thank you so much, writing juice. Really appreciate it.  
> Anyway, we're in the home stretch now! I think! Honestly I have no idea where this story was going when I started, but I know that it's probably only going to have a few more chapters. And three epilogues, because why not.
> 
> In other unrelated news, yesterday I found an injured peewee on someone's driveway while leaving school. So I did the obvious thing: picked him up and carried him home. He screamed. The whole way. Also, it was drizzling. I walked home from school, in very slight rain, carrying a damp bird SCREAMING his head off.  
> Also it's November and I'm Australian so it's basically Summer already. Yes, it was hot. I hate the warmer months.
> 
> So I got him home and we (my sister and I) put him in a spare shoebox and left him where the cat couldn't get him. Then he died, because he probably had internal injuries that were probably from getting hit by a car. So we're trying to figure out if the school is allowed to put him in a jar of formaldehyde (the science lab has a cabinet of things in jars of formaldehyde and also animal skulls, it's pretty cool actually).  
> There's probably a moral to this story.
> 
> RIP Mr Screamalot.


	28. Humans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sam is more involved than even he realizes.

Things had certainly changed, Freddy mused.

It hadn’t taken them too long to get used to the fact that the ghosts had moved on. Nowhere near as long as Freddy had initially worried, anyway.  
What was harder to get used to? Springtrap.

Freddy hadn’t realized exactly how good the rabbit was at avoiding them until he’d stopped. Sure Springtrap was a pretty quiet animatronic, and while Freddy knew factually he was harmless, he still found himself jumping when he caught the silver glow of the green rabbit’s eyes in his peripheral vision. He knew that Springtrap didn’t mean anything by it, but it still got on his nerves. Wires. Whichever.

Perhaps the most startling thing had been the complete lack of anger from him. Springtrap had been bruised, battered, sealed away, attacked, assaulted, dragged around, heavily damaged, torn, hurt in ways Freddy could only imagine. By all rights, he had every right to be angry. But he just… wasn’t. Springtrap was calm and peaceful. It was strange, actually.  
On the bright side, they didn’t have to deal with an angry, vengeful rabbit that could probably do a lot more damage than he let on. He sighed.

Springtrap wasn’t so bad, admittedly. He was just… odd. And surprisingly open to touch. For a rabbit that had been torn to pieces, he was very touchy-feely. Freddy had been confused when the old rabbit had started physically interacting with him- he’d often intentionally brush up against him, or tap or grab at him, and was strangely into hugs. Freddy had noticed the others experienced the same thing, and had figured it was just how Springtrap was.  
He had only had a couple of short chats with the night guard, but he had said Springtrap was ‘probably touch-starved’. Whatever that meant.

***

Things were getting better. Springtrap’s relationship with the Classic animatronics was tentative, but it was far better than it had used to be. None of them were Fredbear, but he didn’t expect them to be; they were their own people, and that was okay, no matter how much he missed his old love.  
Having friendships, even strained ones, made the loss a little easier.

However, as Springtrap’s friendly relationships got better, his body was getting worse. Physical movement put a strain on it the way lying still in the Safe Room hadn’t, and it was doing a number on him. It worried him, frankly. Before, repair work had been a small fantasy he allowed himself when he was feeling particularly physically horrible. Now, it was something he actually would need if he wanted to keep going much longer. He’d only just started living again! He didn’t want to die just yet.

Sam was the only one he told about his fears.  
‘I, uh, could see if I could find this Henry guy on Facebook?” He offered. “Are you sure he’s still alive, even?”  
_ Henry would be getting pretty old, but it’s certainly possible. Worth a try, at least?  
_ “Yeah, fair enough.” Sam had bought his laptop in that night, like he often did. “If we can’t find him, I could always talk to Jake, but no promises he’ll do anything. And I doubt whatever he might do will be as good, you know?”  
Ah, there was an old tradition: Fazbear Entertainment cutting costs as much as possible. There had been rats in the Safe Room  _ before  _ it was sealed up.

Unexpectedly, they found him, on some website called ‘Facebook’. After Springtrap confirmed that it was, indeed, the Henry Emily they were looking for- his facial recognition was rudimentary compared to the others, but it functioned well enough- Sam sent him a message via ‘Gmail’. Whatever that was. 

_ To: henryemily63@gmail.com _

_ Subject: Spring repairs _

_ Hey there, Mr Emily. _

_ I know this is weird, but I’m the night guard/performer for Fazbear’s Fright. But I’m not writing on their behalf! _

_ Apparently you already know that the animatronics are sentient, and I’ve somehow become friends with a couple- JJ and Spring (actually, it was more that they showed up in the office and forcefully inserted themselves in my life). The thing is, Spring’s pretty old, and very heavily damaged. He just came into the office tonight, and he says he’s worried the damage is finally catching up to him, and that he’s not sure how long he’ll last. He’s scared, I think. It’s hard to tell, his face doesn’t really do expressions very well, but his ears keep twitching.  
_ _ He’s also been rendered mute. I should probably mention that. _

_ So, I guess I’m asking if you could come take a look, at least? If there’s a good time, I’ll come and let you in. Nobody really works here out of hours except for a couple cleaners, but it probably won’t be too much bother to avoid their schedules. The place is kept deliberately dirty, after all. _

_ Oh, Spring has a key. That explains where the spare went! When did he get that? Jake’s been looking for it for ages. Not that it’s my business. He says he technically works here, so it’s not stealing. Cheeky. He’s right though.  
_ _ I’d still like to be there, though. But if you aren’t comfortable with it, that’s okay. I won’t be upset. _

_ Spring says to give you a message. He says: Gold and purple, turquoise and green. Easter of 1963.  
_ _ Yeah, I don’t get it. But he says it’s some sort of proof this is real? I’m guessing you know.  _

_ Thanks,   
_ _ Samuel Adams. _

“I’ll uh, let you know if he replies?” Sam said, looking up at Springtrap. Spring bobbed his head in agreement.  
_ Thank you.  
_ “No problem.” He patted the rabbit, but his mind seemed worlds away.  
“Hey, Spring? Can I vent to you for a minute?”  
The rabbit hummed in agreement.

***

“I came to Fazbear’s Fright because it seemed... familiar, I guess? I don’t know how to explain it. It was like there was something… calling to me, I guess. Sorry, I can't really explain it. But when I was little, I had this plush toy. Looking back, it was for the Puppet, I think? And it’s tag said Fazbear Entertainment. Had it for years, but Mum found it and got really angry about it when I was about eleven? I’m not sure why. She threw it out, and I remember being really confused and upset.  
“I never knew my father, and I don’t even know his name, but I knew I was born in a town called Hurricane? So I came out here, but of course I didn’t know his name, and I don’t even know if he still lives here, so it was kinda pointless I guess? But it’s a nice town, and I like the quiet, and the rent’s cheap, so I decided to live here anyway. Mother… she wasn’t happy. We fought about it, over the phone, but eventually she just resigned herself to it.   
“And then I saw an ad, and I remembered that old plush toy, and… I guess I was curious? So I called up, took the job, and decided not to tell Mum so she doesn’t bite my head off, I guess. I don’t know. Just… what happened? Why won’t she talk about my father? Why does she hate Hurricane so much? I asked her about that ‘Fazbear Entertainment’ once, and all she would say was that it had killed someone. I haven’t- I haven’t told her about, you know, this,” he waved vaguely “working here. I love her, and at any other time she’s a good mum, which makes this even weirder, I guess. I don’t know.”

Springtrap suddenly had a thought.  _ Your mother’s name isn’t Ashley, is it? Ashley Hannah Adams?  
_ “Uh, yeah, how do you- wait, did you know my mother?”  _ No wonder you look familiar.   
_ _ Yes, I knew your mother. I also knew your father. Quite well, in fact.  
_ “Can you tell me who he is? Do you know how to contact him? I want to meet him!”  
_ Maybe you will. You just sent him an Email.  
_ Sam fell out of his chair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, this one was ready yesterday, but I was an idiot and didn't post it. So here we go!
> 
> And yes! Sam the night guard is, in fact, Sammy Emily. You know, Charlie's brother. From the novels. Who everyone forgets about. Including Scott. Who created him. And might be the Crying Child in canon if you want to see it that way. Now I can finally add him to the character tags.
> 
> Yes, this was one of the things that was always planned. As opposed to Springtrap going through the hidden minigames, which was an idea I had around Chapter One.  
> I feel like that should say something about my ability to plan.


	29. Henry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Henry shows up, Mike is also there, and it turns out Springtrap is held together by magic and corpse.

“So my dad- and you- and- I can not believe this.” Sam was clearly still reeling from this revelation.  
“Why’d they break up?” he asked finally.  
_ Do you remember Charlie? Charlotte?  
_ “No? Should I?”  
_ Not much of a surprise, I suppose. You  _ _ were  _ _ very young. She was your twin sister, and a bright little girl. You two were practically inseparable.   
_ _ I’ll assume you know the basics of the Missing Children’s incident, but while it was going on, Henry built an animatronic programmed to make sure each child went home with their parents. Something to do with coloured bracelets… I don’t know how it worked. It was called the Security Puppet, and by the time she was finished, five had already been taken. She was built to protect the children, but you two in particular, as well as the two children of the other co-founder. Charlie was her favourite, I believe.  
_ _ One night, she was locked out of the pizzeria. The Puppet was incapacitated in some way, I think. Charlie was always a bright girl. She was getting dangerously close to the truth.  
_ _ By the time they found her, it was too late. The Puppet had gone to her, but heavy rain is very bad for animatronics, and she couldn’t have done anything anyway, I expect.   
_ _ Ashley left Henry not long after that. He didn’t take it well, I think. The next generation, the Toys, he made with a built-in security system, but it didn’t work. Five more children. Then the Bite of ‘87. He left the company after that, I believe. Blamed himself, even if it wasn’t his fault.   
_ Sam just stared at the neat writing, and said nothing.

***

Unexpectedly, Henry actually responded. Even more unexpectedly, he was willing. And he was bringing his apprentice (though he wasn’t really an apprentice any more, apparently). A guy named Michael.   
Springtrap suspected he knew which Michael he was talking about, and was bracing himself.

Of course, there was also the minor part where they had to explain what was happening to the other animatronics  _ before  _ the man showed up. Mostly to improve Henry’s chances of survival.  
On the twenty-third of July, 2023, Henry Emily and Michael- and yes, Springtrap was right, it  _ was  _ Michael Afton, and he looked  _ uncomfortably  _ similar to his father- arrived at Fazbear’s Fright.

Bonnie and Chica were extremely eager, with Foxy and Freddy not far behind. Springtrap and Sam both hung back a bit, equally nervous but for different reasons.  
God, Michael looked so much like his father. Same face, same hair, same purple clothing. And he was going to help Henry look at him.  
_ Focus on the differences.  
_ Michael was leaner than William; and while the father had always looked like he’d been heavier before he lost it, the son looked more like he’d never gained it to begin with. Mike’s blue eyes were more vibrant, and his hair was a few shades darker. The most obvious difference was his hairstyle; his hair had been grown long, and was tied back in a low ponytail; William would  _ never  _ be caught dead with hair going past the top of his neck.  
And especially not that messy. Springtrap wondered if he was doing it intentionally, as a quiet middle finger to his late father.   
It made him feel slightly better.

***

“Hey there Spring, good to see you, old friend. What have they done to you, bud?” Henry patted the old animatronic on the arm.   
“Let’s see if we can’t do some repairs, huh? How bad is it inside?”

***

The bizarre reunion between Sam and Henry had been incredibly awkward, but very cute. Sam was a naturally awkward person, Henry had never been great with humans, and it turned out Mike wasn’t a great deal of help either ( _ very _ different from his father, which Springtrap was grateful for).

But Sam and Henry soon both relaxed, and were going through the motions of getting to know one another while Mike investigated Springtrap as best he could.  
“I’m not sure whether I should be pissed about the weird way he’s been constructed, or impressed he hasn’t collapsed yet. What the hell is holding him togeth- _wait what the hell is that_.”  
Springtrap winced. He knew he should’ve warned them beforehand, but he still tended to hide the rotting corpse. It was instinctive, a sort of habit- born from the fear he would be scrapped is the workers found out, and increased by the fact he was being blamed for murder.  
Mike, as it turned out, wasn’t as fazed as most people would be when finding human bones inside an animatronic, but it still clearly bothered him.  
“Hey, where did you find him again?”  
“Um, this was before I was hired, but they found him in a room that had been sealed off? He says he was sealed in there for thirty years, why?”  
“...And why did they seal him away?” Sam just shrugged.  
“Something about him killing the Purple Guy,” Chica offered. “Springtrap tends to be infuriatingly vague about it. Something called a springlock failure?” Henry winced.  
“Ah, that explains it,” Mike said. “Though a heads-up would have been nice.”  
“A heads-up about what?”  
Mike just held up a shard of bone, about as long as the human’s hand and stained with old blood.  
“Looks like they never removed the corpse.”  
Springtrap wondered if they could bury him too, along with the body.

***

“Puppet?” Chica watched as Henry tapped on the box. No response. He sighed.  
The Puppet had been the only inhabitant of the Fright to not come out when Henry had arrived- actually, she’d retreated into her box the moment she heard he was coming. And not peeked out since, as far as she knew.  
The others were with Mike, who had been staring at Springtrap’s shoulders for the past ten minutes before saying that “I have no clue what is keeping this goddamn rabbit in one piece, but I feel like it’s one part corpse, two parts supernatural bullshit.”  
Springtrap had actually  _ agreed _ , and that was about the point Chica had volunteered to take Henry and see if they couldn’t get the Puppet out of her box to say hi.  
They couldn’t.

“C’mon, Poppy,” Henry begged. He was the only one who referred to the Puppet with any sort of nickname, and probably the only one game.   
The Puppet wasn’t responding.  
“Chica,” Henry started loudly, “can you push this over for me?” he tapped on the box a couple of times.  
There was a pause, and then:  
“You wouldn’t dare.” The Puppet rose out of her box until she was clearly standing, and glared at Chica. The chicken took an instinctive step back.  
“Probably not,” Henry agreed, “but it got you out of your box, didn’t it?” She glared at him, but made no move to attack.  
Henry’s voice softened. “It won’t do you any good to hide away all the time, Poppy.”  
She continued to glare at him.  
Satisfied she wasn’t going to attack him, Chica quietly retreated.

***

“I have no idea what you expect me to do, but this rabbit is irreparable,” Mike announced as Henry walked back in. “Unless you let me basically rebuild him from scratch, I can’t really do anything. He needed repairs… oh, I’d say thirty years ago? But this is unsalvageable. What a mess.”  
Springtrap felt his ears droop, but he couldn’t help it. He shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up. Sam groaned, and even JJ looked disappointed.

“Would the owners of this place let Mike do that, you think?” Henry asked. Sam grimaced.   
“Not if repairs mean bringing down the creepiness factor- which I expect they will. It’s a horror attraction, after all…”  
The humans and Classics had a back-and-forth, but none of them pointed out the only real option, Springtrap noticed. He waved his arm, but nobody noticed.  
“What is it?” JJ murmured. He scribbled down an answer.  
_ Nobody seems to be considering playing the animatronics-are-sentient card.  
_ “Would that even  _ work?”  
_ Springtrap just shrugged.  _ It’s worth considering, at least. _

***

Springtrap and JJ’s announcement was met with stunned silence.  
“Is that a good idea?” worried Chica, who was wringing her hands.  
“If some nasty people find out...”Freddy muttered.  
_ I didn’t mean we tell  _ _ everyone _ _ , people. Just one or two. My body is the thing that’s dying, not my brain. Give me some credit.  
_ Maybe he was being a bit snippy. Whatever. He was at his wit’s end. They would just have to deal.  
Henry just sighed. “At one point playing that particular card was considered a reasonable strategy if necessary. Of course, back when we figured it out it was a very different time, before the deaths and before most of you existed. And it’s your choice, really…”  
Chica hesitated. “Could- could playing that particular card also get us out of the attraction and back into a proper pizzeria again? Or at least convince them to sell the company to someone who will?”  _ Every  _ animatronic perked up at that.  
“We’ll have to see what happens.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand yup! Mike and Henry are here!
> 
> You'll notice I skipped the reunions, because I really couldn't be bothered to try and figure out how the interactions went.  
> In my defence, I'm tired, I'm hot, and today took far longer than strictly necessary.
> 
> And my brain keeps cycling back to the FNaF Pokémon AU that exists in brain concept only. Don't ask, I have no idea how it works either.
> 
> I need to stop confusing the Chapter Summary Box for the End Notes box, I keep doing it.
> 
> Also double update, I have somehow produced four chapters in three days can somebody please explain how the writing juice works.


	30. Sound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the only reliable part of Springtrap's body fails.

The owner of Fazbear’s Fright was named Jake. From what Springtrap had seen, he was excitable, cheerful, and not particularly serious. He was fully aware that Freddy had a pretty low opinion of him, which was why he was still hanging around instead of wandering off to his usual haunts like the others.

Jake was in the office with Sam, Mike and Henry. Jake had been thrilled to meet the co-founder of Fazbear Entertainment and man who built the animatronics actively roaming the halls.  
After much discussion, they had decided that the relatively level-headed and iconic Freddy would be the first animatronic to properly talk to Jake, if trying to convince him via more normal methods didn’t work out. Springtrap was only hanging around in case something went wrong. He could take far more of a beating than a human, and he  _ did  _ owe the man for getting him out of the Safe Room and giving him a second chance.

Jake really didn’t seem to fit the vibe of Fazbear’s Fright. He had short but messy blonde hair, and bright blue eyes. He wasn’t short, but he wasn’t tall either. Then again, Springtrap was seven feet when he was standing up straight, so maybe his views on human height were a little skewed.  
Jake’s clothes were as messy as his hair, and he wore a Hawaiian shirt and board shorts.   
Human clothing. Sixty years of existence, and Springtrap still didn’t understand it.

***

Jake wilted quite suddenly when Freddy glared at him. The man had said something stupid, from what Springtrap had heard. Maybe letting his first point of contact one of the Classic animatronics wasn’t such a good idea after all.  
Springtrap would have done it himself if he could speak. As it was, he was lingering outside the window, just barely out of sight from the beings on the other side.

He hesitated. Should he interfere anyway? Freddy hadn’t actually  _ done  _ anything yet…  
Jake said something else equally stupid ( _ stop talking you idiot)  _ and Freddy’s foot was tapping. Springtrap could hear it, at the edge of his hearing- crap, was his hearing going?  _ That  _ wasn’t good; it had been the most reliable part of his body- but he could pick up on the bear’s agitation. He was dangerously close to snapping at the man.  
_ Time to make a move,  _ Springtrap decided, and tapped on the glass, the exposed metal of his fingertips creating a clinking sound. Oh, his hearing was working better again. Good. Maybe the malfunction was a one-off.  
Probably not.

He jabbed a finger at Freddy when he noticed, and then back out of the office. Springtrap knew full well where the situation was going, and he wasn’t going to see anyone injured under his watch.   
Freddy glared at him, and Springtrap repeated the gesture while glaring right back. The rabbit could be very stubborn when he had to be, not that Freddy knew it. His hearing was fading again, and this time he was aware of an impossible high-pitched sound, more felt than heard. It was pulsing irregularly, and subtly throwing him off.  
He tried to focus back on the angry bear, but the lack of proper hearing was throwing him off a bit, and it was scaring him.

No matter how bad Springtrap’s eyesight could get, no matter how often his joints locked up, Springtrap had always had his rabbit hearing. It had saved his life several times, back when the Classics were hunting him. He had figured out a basic method of echolocation for when his eyes were useless. He  _ relied  _ on his ears, and now they were letting him down for the first time in his life.  
It scared him.

His hearing was returning again ( _ make up your mind _ ) and Spring became very aware of how four humans and an animatronic were staring at him. He blinked a couple times, trying to clear his head (and the static filling his vision), and gave an awkward wave.  
_ I’m fine,  _ he meant. Henry didn’t look convinced. He gave Freddy the closest to a significant look that he could manage, and left again.

_ Stars, sparks, servos and springlocks. If my hearing is really going…  
_ Time was running out for the zombie bunny.

***

Bonnie and Chica were heading to the Office when Bonnie stumbled.  
“What is it?” She asked, worried.  
“Not sure. Just- my ears failed for a second. Weird. Wonder what that was about.”  
“Failed?” she echoed, as they resumed walking. Bonnie’s impressive hearing was an important part of the bunny, similar to Foxy’s speed or Freddy's strength. It didn’t just  _ fail.  _

They came across Springtrap, leaning heavily on the wall. The older rabbit seemed really out of it too, and Chica waved her paw in his face. Springtrap blinked a couple times before focusing on her.  
“Something just knocked out Bon’s hearing for a moment,” Chica told him in a low voice, “you too?” He gave a small nod, eyes flicking back toward the Office, and then back to her again. Some emotion was buried in his gaze, and Chica realized it was fear.

Springtrap always seemed to exist on some wavelength the others weren't always able to pick up. He saw things, heard things, experienced things in ways others couldn’t. His strangeness made his head spin.  
Bonnie staggered again, rubbing at his ears, and Springtrap swayed. He didn’t seem as affected, or maybe he was just better at gritting his teeth and pushing through it.

***

“What was it?” Chica asked. Bonnie frowned.  
“I dunno. I think there was this noise? More felt than heard. Some sort of ultrasonic sound. Really high-pitched. I don’t know. It overloaded my ears, I think.”  
Springtrap jolted. An old, faint, blurry memory drifted to mind.  
It wasn’t his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaand somethings happening! What is it? Who knows!   
> (Me. I'm the one who knows. But I'm not gonna tell you.)
> 
> Anyway, looks like we have a last-minute addition to the plot, which I came up with this afternoon. After this, it'll be epilogues and end. No more last-second 'oh look, shiny thing!'
> 
> ~~Shoves plan for sequel under the rug.~~


	31. Doors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which something nasty tries to get in.

Springtrap took off, limping towards the office as fast as he could manage.  
_ Danger! Beware!  
_ He wasn’t sure how he knew, he just did. It was a gut feeling, an instinct, an echo from another life. He wasn’t sure what it meant, but the sound was back, and it was getting stronger, flushing out every other noise.  
Fine. He was going to have to do this half-blind and basically deaf, but he could push through like he always did.  
He kept going.

The office was only in the next room, but it felt further.

***

Freddy jumped when Springtrap burst into the Office, silver eyes panicked.  
“Springtrap, what-”  
“Freddy! We have a problem!” Chica was right outside the window.  
“What?”   
“I don't know but something’s knocking out the rabbit’s hearing and Springtrap took off and I don’t know what’s going on but I’m pretty sure it’s something bad,” she babbled frantically. Freddy glanced between the frantic chicken and the visibly scared rabbit-  _ wait, why were his eyes purple-  _ and believed them. Springtrap was a naturally calm animatronic. He hadn’t panicked when the Puppet tried to tear out his eyeballs, so the fact he was freaking out now spoke volumes.  
“Do you know anything?” Freddy asked the green rabbit. Springtrap gestured wildly at his ears, and he remembered Chica had said it was affecting the rabbit’s hearing.  
Dammit. Sometimes he really wished Springtrap could talk. He always seemed to know something.  
It turned out Springtrap didn’t need to say anything when  _ something  _ struck the entrance door.

***

The human’s reactions were immediate- Jake yelped and hid behind Springtrap, Mike and Sam both froze, and Henry backed away from the doorway.  
Springtrap was moving- limping swiftly to the door and bracing himself against it. His ears were pinned back in fear- unlike Bonnie, he made no effort to hide it.  
Freddy joined him, adding his considerable weight and strength to keeping the door closed. As he did, he became aware of a noise- though it was more felt than heard.  
“You hear that?” he asked the chicken as she joined them.  
“Yeah. Jeez, that’s really high-pitched. I think it’s messing with my head. No wonder Bon went deaf, this is awful.”  
“Mmm. FOXY! BONNIE! COULD DO WITH SOME HELP RIGHT NOW!” He had no way of knowing if either had heard them, but he didn’t have time to check. 

***

The door crunched, and the three strained against it. Freddy heard footsteps behind them, and Foxy was there, adding his strength to the group.  
Whatever was on the other side was  _ strong.  _ And angry- Freddy could hear the sound of metal scraping against metal. Quite forcefully too. The door shuddered, and Freddy couldn’t help but notice what seemed to be  _ claw marks  _ emboss themselves near Chica’s head.  
They were  _ massive _ .  _ What in the world is on the other side of that door?  _ Freddy felt a thrill of fear run down his spine, and he forced himself to push through the instinct to  _ run, get out,  _ that’s  _ something you can’t take, RUN.  
_

The others weren’t budging, so neither was he.  
Not even when five enormous, curved swordlike blades pierced through.

Then, with a single, terrible screech, the doors were torn away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So GUESS WHAT.
> 
> [GOLDEN ECHOES HAS **FANART** NOW!](https://just-here-4-comics.tumblr.com/post/636366144140345344/i-read-a-fanfic-called-golden-echos-recently-on)  
> I JUST- AHHH IT'S **SO C U T E.**  
>  Shout out to the lovely Tumblr user just-here-4-comics, you are amazing (I don't know if you have an AO3 account, so if you do let me know).   
> Ahhh I just- I'm blushing. I'm blushing! I blush every time I see it help-  
> And it's just... surreal. To think that a complete stranger not only _read_ GE, but liked it so much they drew a picture for it? And they both look so soft and I want to squish Spring's fluffy little face _ahhhhh-_
> 
> *Cough* alright, now that I've stopped fangirling over fanart, I'd like to say a few things:  
> First, sorry this chap took so long, but I was struggling to extend the scene to chapter length and eventually wound up reworking it. Next chapter won't take as long, I don't think.  
> Second, I've tried to embed a link, and I _think_ I did it right, but if I haven't please tell me.  
> Third, I'm in my last week of school! Which is also my first week of Year 11. They're getting us used to the new campus and classes, don't worry about it. When I start Year 11 proper, I'm not sure if I'll be able to write as much, though. But first there's the Chrissie holidays, so...


	32. Attack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Springtrap needs a hand, and Freddy faces down a character with swords on his fingers.

It was  _ massive.  
_ Chica backed up extremely quickly when she saw it. It was a monster, plain and simple.  
All she could see was matted brown fur and snapping teeth, long claws and green boils. She wasn’t afraid to admit she turned and bolted after a few steps- Freddy and Foxy had already done the same.  
Dimly, she realised Springtrap hadn’t.

***

His knee had locked up at the worst possible time. Springtrap jabbed at it frantically, but he already knew it was too late even before his attacker hit him.

Once, when his springlocks had been driven into flesh and bone, he’d thought that it was the most physically painful thing he’d ever experienced. It had been his frame of reference for thirty years- when the rats had chewed through his suit, when his ear broke in half, when the Puppet attacked him, he didn’t complain, because he’d already had far worse.  
But this?  
This  _ was  _ worse.

The animatronic’s claws- some part of him registered it as being called Twisted Freddy- drove into his body as he was knocked to the ground. Two in his spine, one in his arm, the other two in his side.   
He was thrown behind Twisted Freddy, the bear seemingly not even noticing the rabbit as it launched itself forwards on four enormous limbs. Springtrap saw, through blurred, glitching vision, another hulking shape. And another. He couldn’t feel his legs. He couldn’t feel his arm. He could feel his arm. But only the left one. He twisted awkwardly. Where were his legs? Another monstrous shape. It was yellow. Fredbear? Was he here? Why were his arms orange? Not Fredbear. Someone else. Why did he only feel his left arm? What about his right? He needed his right. To play guitar. And...do something else. Talk? How would one talk with his hand? Oh, sign language. Right. He was right-handed. Didn’t he have legs? What was that over there? An arm? Did someone need a hand?  
He did. He needed a hand. God, it hurt. Where was his arm? Was that his arm? No, it couldn’t be. He was gold. Not green. Or maybe it was. It was hard to think. Thinking. What a strange concept. The Greeks had invented thinking, hadn't they? Why would they do that?  
Hey, who had left their pants where Twisted Freddy could step on them?  
Oh.  
Something must have actually clicked at that point, connecting through the haze of pain.  _ Well. I’ve never been de-legged before,  _ he thought, mildly hysterical. Everything hurt. A lot. He had lost his arm, lost his legs, lost his ear. And there was a monster in the attraction. Well. That was probably bad.  
Not that there was much he could do.   
There was something sniffing around his feet.  _ These things can smell? Unfair.  
_ Hmmm. Would it finish off the job? He didn’t know. Although maybe it would be nice for the pain to end already.  
_ Play dead. _

Well. There was a piece of advice. Though was he really playing?  
He certainly  _ felt  _ dead.  
_ Play dead.  
_ Well, his mind was being very bossy today.  
_ Play dead.  
_ Not that he had anything better to do.  
He lay back down on the grass with a sigh. Grass was nice. Soft. Green. Relatable.  
Everything hurt.

***

Meanwhile, the Office was in chaos. The monster was trying to force itself through the doorway, despite a clear size difference. Even without being able to fit through the doorway, it had a long reach with long claws, and all four humans were pressed up against the back wall in various degrees of fear.  
Freddy had positioned himself between Henry and it, but the thing had torn through Springtrap like tissue paper.  
Chica was to his left, as always, and Foxy was on his right. He was pretty sure JJ was still under the desk- she was probably doing the keep-quiet-and-hope-nobody-notices maneuvre.  
She was probably smarter than the rest of them. What were they  _ thinking _ , facing something like this down?  
Still. They had to protect their creator. Their father, in a way. Henry had given them so much. The least they could do was give him a chance at survival.

The monster managed to force itself through the door, and for the first time Freddy noticed the top hat scraping the ceiling.   
What.

The sound was at an all-time high, and even bothering those _without_ the impressive rabbit hearing. It was throwing Freddy off, but he had to grit his teeth and concentrate as the monster lunged, claws slicing through the air. Freddy and Chica were thrown aside, and he felt claws dig deep into his fur. He grunted as he hit the wall, wincing as he collided with Chica.

He couldn’t hear anything by this point, not with the monster so close (what the hell was that sound, it was clearly making it but  _ what was the point _ ), but he watched as those curved blades knocked Foxy away, as they reached toward Henry.  
As Mike cried out a word- ‘No’? ‘Stop’? Freddy couldn’t tell.  
He watched the monster freeze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, Springtrap's train of thought is going...somewhere.  
> Someone fix the poor boy.
> 
> And yes, these are the Twisted animatronics, not the Nightmares as a certain commenter thought. Do the Nightmares even exist? Who knows!  
> (Oh, you meant for this fic. Well, the answer is: _ehhhh...?_ *gestures vaguely*)
> 
> Also. Freddy.  
> You are an idiot.
> 
> Fun fact: at one point, there was a chapter titled 'Attack' that would have been chapter 2, slotting in between 1:Returned and the current chapter 2:Exploration. It would've been about Bonnie attacking Spring, and Freddy pulling him off. But I couldn't make it work, so it was scrapped.  
> Still, glad it could return, even if it _was_ in name only.


	33. Rest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Springtrap finally catches a break.

It didn’t so much as twitch. The ice-blue eyes were trained on Mike, but there was no movement whatsoever. It had just… frozen.  
Completely.

Mike looked as stunned and confused as Foxy felt.   
“Wha’ did ya do, lad?” the pirate whispered.  
“I don’t know,” Mike admitted, “I just… told it to stop.”  
Foxy looked up at the thing, and then at Mike.  
Why would  _ that  _ listen to  _ him? _

***

As it turned out, the monster listened to and obeyed Michael Afton.   
And  _ only  _ Michael Afton, as they quickly discovered.  
Really, it was strange.

JJ was still hiding under the desk. Sure, the thing was no longer tearing up the place, and Mike seemed to have it under control, but also it was completely terrifying.  
She glanced toward the door, wondering if she should make a run for it, and saw a large shadow stretch across the floor.  
“Um, guys?” She called.  
“I think there’s another one.”

***

There was  _ not  _ another one.  
There were another  _ four.  
_ Servos, circuits, plugs and switches. Seeing them all together, it was obvious they were based on the animatronics of Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzaria. Their attacker had been a Freddy, with swordlike caws, green boils, and metal jaws in his stomach. The Bonnie was lavender, long ears dripping purple goop, black claws curved into crescents and a jaw split and snapping like mandibles.  
There was a Chica; her cupcakes fused to her skin, arms and legs covered in orange scales, with snapping mouths biting the air at each joint.  
Foxy, with a massive, matted tail, nasty-looking hook, and a second set of jaws inside his mouth.  
And some sort of grey wolf, with long fur running down its back, spikes jutting from its arm, but somehow having the tamest design.

JJ may or may not have squeaked and hidden behind Chica. She hoped Mike could control these ones as well.

Mike could, and he chased them off.

***

There were voices. Voices. His voicebox had lungs. His lungs were in his spine. His spine was being held together by lungs. His spine attached to his legs. He had no legs. He heard voices. He couldn’t hear.   
The grass was nice. Cool. Soft. Green. Like his eyes. Not like his eyes. Like his fur. He had no fur. Like his plush. His plush was green. Or gold. Or red. Or brown. He couldn’t remember which. Maybe it was all of them  
There was a breeze. It was nice. Warm. Hot. It was sunny. The sun was a star. He liked stars. Stars meant Fredbear. And dancing. Where were his legs? He wanted to dance with the stars. Or with Fredbear. Fredbear. His Fredbear. He missed Fredbear.   
Henry was above him. He heard Henry’s voice. He couldn’t hear. Henry meant Fredbear. Or he didn’t. He opened his eyes. There was Henry. And Balloon Girl. And David. He was wearing his fox mask again. It had been upgraded. It had expressions. It was yelling at Henry. Don’t yell at Henry, David. He batted at the fox snout. Since when did it have an eyepatch?  
Oh, it was an animatronic. Foxy? Foxy the Fox. What a strange name.   
He felt a piercing pain in the back of his head, and then Henry spoke again. He couldn’t hear. He could hear, but barely.  
_ Time to rest, old friend.  
_ And then Springtrap was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, as it turns out?  
> This is the last proper chapter.  
> There will be three epilogues, because this thing will end like it started, but for normal chapters?  
> This is it.
> 
> The three epilogues will all be posted together, either today or tomorrow.  
> I'll say my goodbyes then.  
> Although it's more a 'see you later.'


	34. Epilogue: Box

Broken glass crunched under Chica’s feet. As she stepped into what had once been the dining room, she felt her beak open in shock.  
She knew, factually, that the place was in poor condition. But _seeing_ it was a slap in the face.

There was barely any furniture left, and what remained was trashed. The Main Stage had an enormous hole where she and Freddy had once stood, the curtain above it only a few faded scraps clinging to a bent and rusted rod.   
The tiles were cracked and broken, many missing entirely. The entire place was filled with dust and grime, left by decades of neglect. No windows were left intact. The children’s drawings that had always lined the wall, the foil stars that once hung from the ceiling, the posters; all gone.   
It was awful.

In a daze, Chica felt herself heading toward the kitchen. The familiar route felt strange now.  
It was mostly empty. The appliances had been removed; most of the countertops were shattered. Cupboard doors were torn away or hanging limply on a single hinge. No food was left.  
One of the walls had an enormous hole in it.  
It stung. A lot. The Kitchen had once been Chica’s safe haven, a place of privacy.  
Now it was gone

***

They all wandered around aimlessly for a while, treading familiar paths that now felt alien. However, somehow Freddy found himself outside the boarded-up bathrooms (why were  _ they  _ the only things that had been boarded up?), staring at a hole in the wall.  
Factually, he knew what it was, but he was still having trouble processing it.  
The Safe Room.

He wasn’t sure what to do; the room was unfamiliar, and furthermore, it was  _ Springtrap’s.  _ He didn’t poke his nose into Foxy’s Cove or Chica’s Kitchen without their permission, and he should give the rabbit the same privacy.  
But right now, said rabbit was deactivated in Mike’s basement as the roboticist waited for custom parts to arrive.  
And he was so  _ curious… _

***   
  


Bonnie had no such hesitation, apparently  
The moment the lavender animatronic spotted the entrance, he made a beeline for it. Freddy considered stopping him, but opted to follow instead.

It was mostly empty.  
Aside from ancient yellow papers scattered around- a quick glance informed Freddy they were various types of paperwork- there was nothing.  
Although there was a frankly terrifying amount of blood on the east wall.  
Smeared down the plaster, it started about six feet up, and grew thicker toward the ground. It looked like Springtrap, or the Purple Guy, had slid down the wall until they were sitting. The tile beneath was stained heavily, and Freddy marvelled at how much blood was in a human body.

Scattered near the edges were the top half of Springtrap’s ear (he was pretty sure that was what it was), chunks of rotten flesh and bone, scraps of fur, and a couple of pawprints leading toward the mess.   
Also, the vent was glowing.

It wasn’t a  _ large  _ vent- large enough for Freddy to theoretically fit his head into, but not much else. Still, he couldn’t help but peer inside as the glow faded.  
There was a box.  
Once he pulled it out, he examined it. It was metal, coated in flaking green paint, with two padlocks and two lines of studded leather serving as the only other decoration.  
Freddy tried to brute force it open, but it remained locked. He decided to take it anyway.  
Maybe the contents belonged to Springtrap.


	35. Epilogue: Opening

_ Three months later… _

Things had certainly changed, Freddy decided.   
For the better.

Everything about this felt so familiar; the purple curtains, decorated with glittering stars; The polished wood beneath his paws. Bonnie stood to his left, Chica to the right. Each held their props; Freddy’s microphone, Bonnie’s guitar, Chica’s cupcake. All three were motionless.  
Beyond the curtain was the main dining room. Filled with balloons, tables, chairs and families, all waiting in anticipation. The brand new Pirate’s Cove was still, embedded in the right wall; beside it, the hall leading to the Arcade and Prize Corner.  
To Freddy’s left would be another hall, positioned for symmetry. That one was closed off, and would be until Springtrap’s repair work was completed. Mike estimated a week.  
Whatever the contents were would be Springtrap’s decision, apparently.

Mike padded up behind them. He had stubbornly refused to wear a suit, despite Henry’s best attempts. He also didn’t intend to really make an appearance in public, despite co-owning the company now, apparently. Well. There were worse people.

“You guys ready?” he asked, checking Freddy over.  
“Mike, _please_ ,” the bear deadpanned, “It’s what we were _made_ for.”  
The human sighed and stepped back, giving him an awkward grin.  
“Sorry. Last-minute bout of nerves.” He stepped back and gave a thumbs-up. “Good luck, guys. Here’s hoping this goes smoothly.”

***

A group of teenage girls screamed as they were chased down the corridor. Fox grinned as he ran, intentionally slowing so they could ‘escape’. Master had changed them quite a lot; his claws and hook were no longer quite as sharp, and they were now smaller, to fit in the halls and through the doorways easier.

Also, no killing. That was the new rule.   
It was a strange one, for Master, but he supposed Master knew what he was talking about. He had changed, too; he had scratched behind his ears a couple days ago and it had felt  _ so good.   
_ Bear thought that maybe he wasn’t Original Master, but none of them really cared. Even if he was a New Master, he was a  _ good  _ Master.

Scaring humans was more fun than killing, anyway.


	36. Epilogue: Spark

Darkness, pierced by the computer monitor on the table. The sound of rushing water, moving through pipes. A spider, spinning its web in a corner. Trying to catch food perhaps? There weren’t many insects down here.

An animatronic, once forgotten, now remembered, lay still in the darkness.  
He was encased in soft golden fur, a purple scarf wrapped around his neck. His glittering eyes were marked with lashes. He had a small muzzle, the same colour as the fur around it. A darker shade marked his ears and belly, and a purple acoustic guitar lay beside him.

Complex gears, pistons and pneumatics hummed faintly. Furred paws made no sound as they connected with the concrete floor. Bright green eyes softly glowed.

He remembered a time of life and colour, when he danced and played and sang, when children flocked around him and fed off his happiness and energy and gave him their own.

He  _ would  _ experience that again.

Springtrap took his first steps in his new body, free from pain for the first time in decades.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. Here we are. Thirty chapters, six -louges, 130 Google Doc pages, in approximately six months, across two sites. The prologues were originally published on June 21st, 2020, to Wattpad. Now, on December 12, 2020, it finally ends.  
> I feel I’ve changed a lot in that time.  
> I started publishing to AO3 on the 5th of September. I started advertising on [Tumblr,](https://rayveewrites.tumblr.com/) posting whenever an update hit. I joined the [Fazbear’s Fanfiction Arcade Discord server,](https://discord.gg/kTqbBc2Q) and I couldn’t find a better community. I’ve just finished Year 10 of school; in 2020, no less.  
> It seems fitting that Golden Echoes should finish too.  
> I’d like to thank everyone who took the time to read, to kudos, and especially to comment. Interacting with you people is one of the best parts of writing this.
> 
> Golden Echoes started out as a single concept: what if Springtrap wasn’t William, and made a conscious effort to act as far from him as possible?  
> It’s developed into something much bigger. There are many other ways this story could have gone. As the concept developed, things changed.  
> •The Puppet was always antagonistic, but would’ve taken a bigger role.  
> •Springtrap could speak.  
> •Springtrap was mute.  
> •The Fright was part of a larger theme park. Springtrap got to walk around outside. He got excited over snails and small birds, it was really cute. I should finish that one and release it as an OS.  
> •Springtrap could speak.  
> •Springtrap was mute.  
> •Fredbear was there, but in suit mode.  
> •Fredbear was [SPOILER].  
> •Springtrap could speak.  
> ‣Springtrap had a philosophical conversation with Bonnie while the latter was trapped under a fallen shelf.  
> •Springtrap was mute (it did tend to flip-flop).  
> •The Puppet had magic powers.  
> ‣Like reading minds.  
> ‣She still tried to kill Springtrap.  
> ‣I don’t think I really thought that one through.  
> •Springtrap ran on remnant that was collected from the dead night guards he attracted, comforted, and helped to move on  
> ‣Also he tore William Afton’s soul to shreds  
> ‣Also he absorbed all the memories of each guard, and also Afton’s.  
> •The Twisted animatronics were not going to appear until the chapter Springtrap and Bonnie went deaf. You know. Their leadup.  
> •The whole Springtrap-doing-the-Happiest-Day storyline was _also_ a last-minute addition because I decided that ‘proving himself to the Puppet’ wasn’t a plot I wanted to work with for the full fic length.
> 
> Of course, Springtap isn’t going anywhere! He lives in my brain rent-free, and there are a lot of things he needs to still do.  
> So yes! There will be a sequel! I’m not sure when it will be posted, but it will happen!  
> Titled _Buried Gold,_ it’ll feature a Springtrap now repaired and capable of speech (finally), a deeper exploration of JJ’s character, the rabbit having flashbacks, and a certain, heavily disliked, character being plot-relevant out of spite. Well, that’s the current plan, I’m not sure how much will actually happen in the actual fic.  
> The gay robots do things and I just write it down. I have no control over them.  
> I’m not sure when it’ll be posted, but hopefully soon. 
> 
> But until then, this is Rayvee, signing off. Thanks for the memories, guys.


End file.
